#corp rigid

[nicolae]

Momentul unghiular al unui corp rigid

Am investigat momentul unghiular al unei singure particule, pe care l-am generalizat la un sistem de particule. Acum putem folosi principiile discutate în secțiunea anterioară pentru a dezvolta conceptul de moment unghiular al unui corp rigid. Obiectele cerești, cum ar fi planetele, au moment unghiular datorită rotației lor și orbitelor în jurul stelelor. În inginerie, orice se rotește în jurul…

[bbg100]

I'm not sure that's the vibe we are meant to be getting?

I think the halo imagery is tied to Harry dubois fucked up worship moments, where the halo ties the saintly (otherworldly, better than you Harry, incapable of wrong) kim to the Dora (Dolores Dei) who he previously grasped onto to find meaning in his life.

"When Dolores Dei was anointed innocence, her lungs started glowing through her body, for the world loved her and she loved it back!"

"An innocence is infallible. The decisions made by one are not decisions. They are inevitabilities -- what would have happened anyway, only accelerated, packed into decades instead of centuries. An Innocence is a continuous, compressed event, a sacred human being. It is an honour and a glory to live when one is in office. "

"Dolores Dei was shot in the chest with a fowling piece, eight times. The man, thought to be insane, said he once touched her and her body had been unnaturally warm, like a furnace -- and that sometimes while on duty he observed her forgetting to breathe for over ten minutes... "

"*Sunrise, parabellum*," the lieutenant says. He's in the middle of a freshly cleaned room, with the fan above his head like a halo. His face is covered in bruises"

Tying those quotes together, Dolores dei represented Harry's ex fiancee Dora, who once gave him meaning (I think it's widely speculated that it was her that pushed him to b a cop and a gym teacher but I'm not sure the quotes for that). Without meaning, Harry becomes adrift and goes on bender after bender. He wants that guidance back. So he latches onto Kim, who is given the halo, whose decisions are inevitabilities, years of healing condensed into a week. Who's only in text halo mention is when he is saying, wake up, prepare for war. Kim guides the players quests, harrys decisions, as the new Innocence in his life. I don't think we can analyze the halo without leaning on that foundation.

Tldr Kim is Harry's new patron saint and this sainthood in de has never been unbiased

do you ever think about how kim kitsuragi's halo imagery ties into the desexualization and emasculation of asian men as well as tie him into the idea of the catholic messenger (the angel, clarion call and all) whose presumed reliability comes from its lack of earthly desire (represented by the child-like form and lack of functioning genitals in the same way the desexualization of asian men is argued to be tied to their "child like appearance" by phrenologists) when kim is gay (an often hypersexualized identity) and wants so, so much and kinda sucks at objectivity and is skeptic and fearful of higher powers?

i do.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

more words for characterization (pt. 3)

Mentality

abhorrence, absentmindedness, abstraction, ache, aggravation, agonize, alarm, allergy, amazement, angst, anticipation, apathy, assurance, attention, attrition, awe, bathos, behalf, belonging, bitterness, boast, bosom, breast, buoyancy/buoyance, capitulation, care, censure, cheer, clemency, cogitation, comfort, complex, compulsion, conception, confusion, consideration, constancy, content, contrition, corollary, credit, curiosity, darkness, decision, deference, delight, delirium, dementia, dependence/dependency, design, despair, difficulty, disaffection, discipline, discomfiture, discontent, discrimination, disinclination, disorder, disquiet, distraction, disturbance, dolor, dumps, ecstasy, elation, emotion, enjoyment, envy, esprit de corps, exaltation, excitement, exhilaration, expectation, exultation, fat city, felicity, firmness, fog, forbearance, foresight, forgetfulness, frame of mind, free will, fret, frustration, funk, fury, glee, gratification, grief, happiness, heart, heartbreak, heaven, hoopla, huff, humanity, humor, idiocy, impulse, indignity, insight, introspection, jealousy, joy, kick, lament/lamentation, letdown, levity, madness, mania, melancholy, merriment/merrymaking, mirth, monotony, mope, mortification, mourning, nausea, neglect, nervous breakdown, neurosis, objection, observance, obsession, optimism, outlook, panic, paroxysm, pathos, penance, perception, pessimism, pity, Pollyanna, pout, precognition, premonition, presence, psyche, push, qualm, rage, rapture, red herring, rejoice, repent, repose, resent, resignation, resolution, restlessness, ruckus, sadness, satisfaction, security, self-satisfaction, sensibility, sentiment, servitude, simmer, slump, solace, sorrow, soul-searching, status quo, strain, stress, surprise, sympathy, telepathy, temperament, tension, tolerance, torpor, trance, triumph, umbrage, unrest, vanity, waver, wonder, worry, zeal, zest

Attributes of Mentality: aback, absconder, absent-minded, absorbing, accustomed, affected, afraid, aghast, alert, amatory, angry, apathetic, apprehensive, assumed, attentive, averse, bad, beaten, believable, berserk, bewildered, bigoted, bleak, blue, breathless, broad-minded, brokenhearted, burning, captive, cautious, cheerful, chipper, clairvoyant, compassionate, concerned, confused, contemplative, contented, crabby/crabbed, crazy, cross, curious, daffy, dearly, dejected, delirious, depressed, desolate, desperately, disaffected, disbelieving, disconcerted, discontented/discontent, discouraging, disenchanted, disgusted, disillusioned, disinterested, dispirited, dissident, distressed, doleful, dotty, down, downcast, dumbfounded, elated, emotional, enamored, enraged, excited, exultant, fed up, firm, flushed, forgetful, forlorn, frenetic, frightened, fulfilled, furious, glad, gleeful, glum, grateful, grief-stricken, gut, half-baked, happily, hard, hard-boiled, harried, headstrong, heartsick, high, hopeful, huffy, hysterical, ill-tempered, impassioned, inattentive, inconsolable, indifferent, indiscriminate, insane, insecure, intent, interested, intoxicated, irate, irresolute, jaundiced, jovial, joyful/joyous, jubilant, keen, languid, lethargic, livid, lonesome, loony, low, lukewarm, mad, malleable, manic/maniacal, mental, mindful, mirthful, mixed-up, morbid, mournful, narrow-minded, nerveless, neurotic, new age, normal, numb, nuts/nutty, objectivity, observant, obsessed, off-guard, one-sided, on the fence, opposed/opposing, overjoyed, partial, pensive, pent-up, petrified, phlegmatic, platonic, pooped, predisposed, prepared, profound, provincial, psyched, psychological, pumped, punch-drunk, puzzled, rabid, radical, rapacious, realistic, regretful, restless, rigid, rueful, salacious, sanguine, saturnine, sectarian, self-assured, sensitive, sick, skeptical, small-minded, solicitous, sore, sorry, sound, spellbound, steady, strong, stupefied, sulky, susceptible, tearful, tender, testy, thirsty, thoughtless, tired, torn, tough, ugly, unbalanced, uncaring, uncommitted, undecided, unemotional, unfeeling, uninterested, unsound, untroubled, upbeat, versed, wacky, wary, weary, wide-awake, wishful, woebegone, wrathful, wretched

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary.

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary ⚜ Part 1 ⚜ Part 2

[carter-davis]

C'est vrai que ce serait dommage que tout le monde m'oublie et que je tourne plus rien... Non je rigole, ça va être bien. Pleins de nouveaux followers, de contrats, de rôles. C'est une bonne chose.

Ce serait d'autant plus dommage que ton frère charbonne pour ta notoriété. L'idée c'est que t'aies tout ça et surtout que tu puisses faire ce que tu veux. Je veux que t'aies plus que l'embarras du choix. Que tu puisses refuser des trucs comme le film que t'es en train de tourner par exemple...

Pendant vos prochaines interviews, dans vos posts Instagram, ça m'est égal

Mais il faut que vous commenciez à parler de cette réunion. Dès maintenant.

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.

➺ PAIRING | sanemi shinazugawa x reader

➺ CONTENT WARNING | swearing, mention of a sad & heartbroken genya :((, angst but nothing too tragic (unless??), wc: 1,6k, barely proofread

➺ NOTE | the lovely @ponderingmoonlight inspired me to write for Sanemi <3 I'm not sure if I did him justice, I haven't exactly mastered his character yet so he miiight be a bit ooc.

Your blood is boiling. You're hardly holding back tears of frustration as you stomp toward the Wind Estate, the gravel crunching loudly beneath your feet.

You’re having a hard time controlling your anger, everything Shinobu taught you about emotional restraint fading into a blur the closer you get to your destination.

You never imagined Sanemi would ever go to such extreme with his brother. You've always stayed out of his family business, respecting his privacy and the complexities of his current relationship with Genya. You didn't live with either of them, after all, so there were likely things you didn't know, maybe even deeper reasons behind Sanemi’s behavior.

But this? You couldn't let it slide. No way.

There's no justification for almost blinding and constantly breaking your own brother's heart like he does.

"Sanemi!" you shout as you slide open the door to his room. The Wind hashira whirls around at your sudden arrival, his eyes wide with surprise before they harden into a defensive glare. The look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know, and he's not in the mood for whatever bullshit you're about to spew at him.

"Not now. I’m not in the mood to—"

"Shut up! I'm the one who speaks.” you cut him off, stepping into the room and sliding the door shut with a sharp, forceful motion that would've made him flinch if he weren't so stubbornly set in his ways. If looks could kill, the Wind hashira would be six feet under by now. "I spoke with Genya.”

There it is.

“He told me everything.” your voice trembles with barely restrained fury as you speak, an accusatory finger pointed at him. “How could you?! Your own brother, Sanemi!”

Sanemi's jaw tightens and he stands up abruptly, pulling out his sword with a practiced motion. "Tsk, it's no big deal. He'll get over it," he says dismissively, brushing past you as if the conversation meant nothing.

You move to block his path in an instant, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Do you even hear yourself?!”

Sanemi finally meets your gaze. “I’m trying to keep the goddamn brat alive. I’m trying protect him, alright? He’s being reckless, and he’s fucking crazy if he thinks he’s fit to survive out there!”

“Wha– and you think this is the way to protect him? You think blinding him will keep him safe? What the hell is your problem?! You're not protecting him, Sanemi, you're driving him to desperation. That's what you're doing. You’re pushing him to do reckless things because he thinks he has to prove himself to you!”

The words flow out of your mouth so easily, like they've always been there, waiting to spill out. Your frustration and anger are bubbling to the surface, barely restrained at this point. You've never liked the way he treated Genya, and this incident had been the last straw. There was no way you could keep watching him destroy his relationship with his brother without saying anything.

The silence stretches uncomfortably as Sanemi's gaze bores into yours, the veins on his forehead and his neck bulging in anger. For a moment, you fear he'll lash out at you too, but instead, he pushes past you and storms out of the room, stepping heavily down the wooden stairs.

“Shinazugawa Sanemi!”

He pauses, his back rigid — but he doesn't turn around. His head turns just slightly to the side as he speaks.

"If he stays in the Corps, he’ll die.” he finally snaps. "He can't use breathing techniques. He’s weak. He’s not strong enough and he’ll never be. I'm doing him a favor by being hard on him."

"That's bullshit and you know it." you rush down after him, getting in his way to prevent him from leaving. It takes every fiber of willpower you have not to slap some sense into him. "Wake up already. We live in a world that's beyond cruel and unpredictable, Sanemi. We don't know what tomorrow will bring or if we'll even see it. Death is always in the corner, especially for people like us who are constantly risking our lives with every mission."

Sanemi's eyes widen slightly, the anger in them giving way to something more vulnerable. His heart sinks at the implication — but he wants to hear it from you, loud and clear.

"...What are you saying?"

“I'm saying that what you're doing, the way you're pushing him away and breaking his heart over and over again— it’s going to backfire on you one day.” you continue, a slight desperation in your tone. “You can say what you want, but Genya is a demon slayer. There's nothing you can do about it. And you know what that means, right?” You pause, scanning his reaction for any hint of realization or acceptance. "You said it yourself. It means you could lose him at any moment. Tonight, tomorrow, next week. Life is way too short for you to be acting like this. What if he dies thinking his own brother never loved him? How would you live with that?” You step closer, refusing to back down. “He’s desperate for your forgiveness, for your love. And instead of giving it to him, you do this.”

Sanemi clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white around the hilt of his sword. He hates that you’re right, that you’re seeing through his justifications. He knows he’s been hard on Genya, more than anyone should be to their own brother. He’s spent years pushing him away, trying to protect him from the harsh realities of their world. But in doing so, he’s only unintentionally pushed him into more danger.

"He needs you, Sanemi," you add calmly, stepping closer to him. "You're each other’s only family. Don't let your pride or your fears keep pushing him away. He’s just a child, for God’s sake.”

He wants to argue, to lash out and say that you don’t understand, that there’s no other way. But he can’t find the words to defend himself. He moves to sit on the stairs and takes a deep breath. He averts his gaze, his grip on his sword tightening in pent up anger and frustration.

He can’t help but feel a pang of guilt as he thinks of Genya’s tearstained face, the pain and disappointment in his eyes when those terrible words left his lips.

‘I don't have a little brother.’

It’s not the first time he’s caused him pain, but it doesn’t make it any easier to bear.

"I just... I want him to live a normal life, alright?” he grumbles. “He should be playing with kids his age, laughing and running around without a care in the world. He should be studying for his future, dreaming about what he wants to be when he grows up. He doesn't belong here." he finally mutters, his voice softer than before, yet still rough. You step up to him, sitting down beside him.

As he turns to look at you, Sanemi's expression is a mixture of frustration and helplessness. He looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, every worry and fear etched into his hardened features.

“Everything would be easier if he just hated me." Sanemi says, his voice trembling slightly as he struggles to maintain his composure. "He’d move on, leave the damn Corps, and find a life away from all this bloodshed. If he were to die at the hands of a demon, I—” He pauses, his jaw and fists clenching tightly. He runs a nervous hand across his face.

The words catch in his throat, but you can see the pain and fear in his eyes as he struggles to continue. "I can't lose anyone else. I can't lose him." he finally manages to say.

"Then love him while you still can, Sanemi," you say, your voice firm and steady. Tears start prickling at your eyes but you're quick to blink them away. "We've all lost someone here. Some of us have no one left at all. Some of us would give anything for just five more minutes with a loved one. You still have this time with Genya, so don't take it for granted."

Your words land like a punch in Sanemi’s gut, and he finds himself unable to argue. His shoulders sag, his defensive stance crumbling.

You let out a soft sigh and get back on your feet, one hand resting on the hilt of your sword under your butterfly haori.

“I can't tell you what to do, Sanemi. But I care for Genya as much as I know you do. However, I can't be a replacement for you. I’m not his family. Only you can give him the support and love that he needs.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. Your gaze then shifts to the falling cherry blossoms, a fleeting reminder of life's fragile beauty. “I’m leaving for a mission tomorrow— possibly against an Upper Moon.” you continue, your voice steady despite the weight of your words. “While I’m gone, think about what I’ve said. Genya needs you now more than ever. Don’t let time slip away before you show him how much you care.” you turn to look at him. “You better have fixed this when I get back.”

With a final nod exchanged and a silent promise between you and Sanemi, you begin to walk away — clutching onto hope for a few more days of survival.

[ninibeingdelulu]

Rumors ✧

Plot : He calls you to his office when ridiculous rumors reached his ears, and he didn’t like them at all.

The dimly-lit confines of Levi's sparse office seemed to press in with stifling intensity, the stale air rife with lingering traces of cedar wood and black tea leaves.

You stood at rigid attention before the broad oak desk, pulse thrumming heavily as those gunmetal irises drilled into you with hawkish focus.

"You wished to see me, Captain?"

Your carefully measured tone belied none of the fraying trepidation eddying through your veins.

A pale hand currently braced against the desk's edge curled into a white-knuckle fist as Levi's jaw ticked with pent displeasure.

"Explain it to me, brat."His gruff timbre emerged clipped, edged in blatant steel.

"What's this absurd fuss about you getting all...friendly with the Commander?"

So this interrogation was about the unfortunate rumors encircling yours and Erwin's camaraderie as of late.

A treacherous flicker of amusement nearly broke your stoic facade at the naked undercurrent of jealousy evidenced in Levi's bristling tension.

You fought to keep your voice level and expression neutral under that smoldering glare.

"There's no fraternization occurring, Captain. Myself and the Commander simply share a amicable rapport given our respective responsibilities coordinating strategy."

Slate brows pinched in displeasure at your clinical assessment, burgundy orbs flashing outright derision.

"Tch. Save your diplomatic drivel, you disobedient woman."

Levi seethed as he rose in one lithe, economical motion from behind the desk.

You held your ground, back ramrod straight, even as he stalked forward with purposeful, predatory strides - every coiled movement radiating vicious leonine grace.

The fluttering throb of nervous anticipation tripled as your Captain loomed those few, scant inches separating your figures.

One pale hand Shot out to fist in your collar, jerking you forward until Levi's warm breath purred over your slackened lips.

"You weren't laughing and smiling like some dizzy teenager for my benefit all week, were you?"

He growled with lashing, dripping contempt.

Unable to formulate any coherent response beyond a strangled whimper, you felt your stoic control rapidly fraying under the broiling intensity of Levi's jealous focus.

To the rest of the Corps, you simply presented as close colleagues and confidantes - none were privy to the true nature of your torrid, secret liaison with Humanity's Strongest Soldier.

Only Levi held intimate knowledge of the bond anchoring you both.

And your bond rendered him undeniably feral when even a perceived threat jeopardized that possessive claim.

Every shard of air evacuated your lungs in a gust as he grasped your hips with bruising force, hoisting your weight up in one clean swoop as he walk back to his chair, straddling you on his lap.

Both arms trapped by his vice-like grip bracketing your thighs, you stared down at the smoldering tempest flickered in those mercurial depths glaring up in demand of your full fealty.

"I’m going to ask again..."

Even uttered through gritted teeth, Levi's words still possessed that grating indelible authority certain to be obeyed.

"What foolish notions are driving those idiots to pant after what's already mine to hoard, hm?"

Despite his unyielding snarl and iron countenance, you detected the thinnest fractured glimmer of uncertainty corroding the unwavering steel comprising Levi's solitary heart.

A fond, crooked smile tugged faintly at your lips before you felt emboldened enough to test your luck.

"Why, Levi..."

Your breathed his given name like a dangerously saccharine taunt as you leaned down, pausing a mere hair's breadth from his pursed scowl.

"Don't tell me...you're actually jealous over something so petty?"

His grip spasmed tighter in reprimand, the cords of muscle in those pale forearms flexing with sinuous precision.

Low in his throat rumbled a primal, animalistic growl dripping corrosive threat.

"Care to repeat that reckless drivel a second time?"

You deliberately held his volatile stare, hazy affection limning your own hazy depths.

"There is not a soul among us who holds a candlestick to what we share in this world or the next, Levi."

Each uttered endearment fell like a droplet of fragile hope melting Levi's icy armor bit by bit.

"I know my place - and it's at your side, steadfast and eternal."

With those hushed, impassioned vows, you leaned down to close the final scant distance between your shared breaths.

Levi stiffened further against you, but his staunch facade cracked the instant your pillowed lips slanted over his in a searing, openmouthed claim.

A full-bodied shudder bled through him as you surged forward, plastering every contour of your lithe frames inextricably entwined.

Fingers curled to possessive talons in your hair as the Captain lurched up into your plunging kiss, breath escaping in a ruined exhalation against your slick intrusion.

You poured every fevered fiber of conviction into that bruising tangle of enraptured flesh and fervent need - wholly, utterly submerging any shred of doubt in Levi's besieged spirit.

He greedily drank down your devoted mewls and impassioned intimations, swallowing each tremulous keen rumbling from your intermingled forms.

Only the obscene sounds of breathless want and molding lush friction remained as Levi surrendered all remaining restraint.

You felt yourself pinned astride his musculature, his sturdy form swathed in the desperation of your coveting embrace as if trying to blot out any remaining light beyond your conjoined cyclone.

By the time his grip slackened into liquid satiety, you felt akin to a man drowned - yet buoyed on endless warm tides of Levi's ravenous adulation.

When your swollen mouths at last separated with a shuddering inhale, Levi's face remained suspended in rapturous stasis against your own - eyes shuttered and brow smoothed under the influence of your immovable devotion.

Each shaky breath gusted scalding embers across your tingling skin as strands of ebony dishevelment scattered in silken disarray.

Only once that gunmetal gaze slitted open, wholly transfixed on venerating your glowing presence, did Levi truly wrest back any semblance of composure.

"...Tch." The clicking rasp of his tongue provided shaky pretense of recovered aloofness, even as those pale fingers spanned possessive branding sears across your flushed cheekbones.

"Filthy, manipulative little brat..."

Yet his lips shaped the coarse endearment like a sacred benediction rather than invective.

With a shuddering exhale, Levi gradually relaxed his shielding form against yours - the stalwart mask of Humanity's Strongest Soldier giving way to the man laid emotionally naked before you.

His true face drained of all staunch defiance, surrendering utterly to the one comfort his solitary existence would forever know: your eternal, unconditional grace.

[websterss]

ABOVE EVERYTHING ELSE — TYLER HARRISON

SUMMARY: Tyler has everything to lose especially when Weyland Corps has you in their hold, so why wouldn't he follow through with his orders in order to get you back.

WARNING(S): angst, fluff,

WORD COUNT: 2,844

PAIRING: Tyler Harrison x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Tyler sat rigid and on edge as he waited in the west wing of the ship's infirmary bay. The cool metal bench seeped through his pants as he bounced his knee for five minutes. The long wait agitated him and made him uneasy. He clocked his three o'clock and then his nine, both ends of the hallways vacant and deserted apart from him and his need to see you. They usually were sporadic with being on time and persisting he be there on time for his debrief before he was allowed to see you again. That was Weyland's leverage over him, holding you high over his head, out of reach, and using your status updates as a means to get him to cave into doing their dirty work.

This new task made him feel like a snake. Made him hate the way he was going to have to betray those he cared about. Rain. How she and Andy were his first step in getting you back to him. This was the last of many debriefs he had been given before, many tasks where he had to carry out and commit crimes that plagued and haunted his dreams. Everything he's done, everything he was about to do was unforgivable. There was also that slight voice in the back of his head weighing all the possibilities where you would find out about his assignments and leave him. He at times thinks you should but you never do. You don't leave because if there was one thing that was keeping you here, still being with him, it was the undying love you had for one another.

"Harrison." A nurse calls out, pulling him out of his spiraling. He straightens his back and stands up. "Follow me."

Tyler nods, not one to question orders, and follows the nurse down the hallway quietly.

Tyler follows the nurse through multiple lefts and rights. He reigned in on the fact you weren’t easily accessible to reach. The facility was large and sterile, cold and unsettling. The nurse leads him down to a large room that looks more like a high-tech lab. They reach the closed door, where she swipes her badge across the scanner, a beep is emitted from the device and before he knew it the door was swishing open in a slide. The second his foot crosses the threshold, he meets your gaze. He takes no time in rushing towards you, wrapping his arms around your fragile state. He sighs, breathing in your scent, the oxygen cords inserted in your nostrils colliding with his chest as he hugs you gently but firmly.

"Ty!" You breathe out, a smile dawning on your tired expression.

Tyler feels himself at ease at the sound of your voice, his arms tighten around you as if you would disappear if he let go. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, taking his time to drink in the sight of you alive in front of him.

"Hey, sweetheart." He greets you tenderly, pulling back to get a proper look at you. You look so small and fragile in comparison to the massive medical bed you're lying in. The oxygen tubes in your nostrils and the plethora of wires that run from you to the various pieces of medical machinery make you look more like an experiment than a person. It breaks him to always see you this way. His gaze never falters from you as he calls over his shoulder to the nurse. "Leave us." Once he hears the swish of the door open and close again he looks back and then faces you once again. You look back at the door, feeling at ease now that you have him all to yourself.

"I've missed you. You weren't here last week. T-they said I'm getting better." Your breaths are slow and labored.

"I know. I couldn't come." A pang of guilt makes his stomach twist as he remembers the real reason he hadn't shown. "But I'm here now, alright? Sorry, I couldn't be here earlier." The words felt like bile in his mouth, but he pushed past the feeling as he squeezed your hand in his. "I had a meeting to attend to, but all's well and said now. I'm here and I'm all yours." He reaches forward to tuck one side of your oxygen tube behind your ear.

"I-I like the sound of that." You hum in delight, melting into his gentle caresses.

"Of course you do. You're pretty easy to please, sweetheart." Ty teases softly, his thumb rubbing small circles against the top of your knuckles. He studies your features, noting how tired you look, he can also see that your hair is getting long and unkempt. The sight of your hair growing back gives him all the hope he needs to push through.

"I missed seeing your smile." He murmurs, his hand continuing to stroke against your temple and hair. A beat of silence passes. "I think the treatments are starting to pay off. We were right to start you on them. I mean you're glowing compared to how you were these last two months." He beams. "How have they been treating you here? Is everything okay? Have they been too harsh or rough on you? I'll get Captain Mayfair to provide you with better nurses if they are. I won't hesitate to–" He inquires, his voice lowered slightly.

"Ty, baby, it's okay. They've made sure to make me feel as comfortable as possible."

"Promise?" Ty probes, staring earnestly into your eyes. "You would tell me, right? If they have been harming you? You'd tell me."

The way Tyler's looking at you lets him know there's a good chance that if any of the staff here have been making you feel uncomfortable you wouldn't complain. He knows you'd be too nice to even consider it.

"You'd kill anyone on sight if you so much as saw a bruise on my skin…I'm okay." You reassure him. Squeezing his hands. He looks down at your grip, amazed by the strength you've garnered again.

He chuckles, looking down at your intertwined hands, a soft breath of relief passing through his lips. The slight squeeze of your hand does little to soothe his fears, but for the moment, he lets himself bask in the fact that you're okay. It's more than he can hope for given the circumstances.

"You don't know the half of what I would do for you." He murmurs, slowly bringing your hand up to his lips. He plants a light kiss on your knuckles. "You're my top priority, infinitely."

"Infinitely?" You try to mask your chuckle, but he hears you anyway. "Two weeks ago you said I was a top priority, yet eternally."

"Forgive me, my love, for thinking you're the most important thing in the entire goddamn universe?" He smirks, rolling his eyes playfully as a scoff bubbles from his lips. He gives you a lopsided smile, bringing your hand to his cheek to nuzzle his face into it. He shuts his eyes and relishes the feeling of you against his skin. "You're top priority every single day and that's not going to change, you know. But when I say eternally…" His eyes open, looking back up at you. "I mean eternally. Until I die, or if you give out on me, and I no longer have you, the one thing keeping me from jumping into space without a suit. You're my top priority, no matter what. It's you above everything and everyone!"

"Well…I-I wouldn't go as far as to say above everyone, surely there are others that trump me-"

Ty pulls back slightly, a small frown playing at his features as he cocks his head to the side to look at you more directly.

"No." He asserts, his voice firm. "No. Don't even go there. You're top prior, my love. You are above all of them. You'll always be above everyone. I wouldn't be where I am today without you by my side. I wouldn't still be breathing if it weren't for you. You're the–the center of the Milky Way, my love. You are a…" He pauses, searching your eyes for any doubt, glitching when his brain farted.

"A black hole?" You quipp.

"Hush." He teases, grinning down at you. He playfully jabs your side with his index finger, watching a small smile grace your features. Seeing that smile makes his heart leap into his throat. He'll never get used to it. "You cheeky thing." He mutters, grabbing your other free hand. He takes it in his, intertwining the other hand that was there. He brings both your hands up to his lips again and gently kisses your knuckles. "You're more than a black hole. You're a supernova that's going to explode everyone's galaxy." He pauses, his smile never leaving his lips. "Including mine."

You flush under his warm eyes. You bite down on your bottom lip, your demeanor evolving into one of timidness. He had got you with that one, that was for sure. And he seemed to notice the fault in your composure. His smirk only grew.

"Really? That's the one that gets you?" He coos, grinning at the lovely flush that was spreading to your cheeks. It wasn't often that he was able to render you into a speechless blushing mess but when he could, my god did it fill him with an incredible amount of pride and love for you. His fingers gently squeeze your knuckles. "I'll remember this for next time, my love. Duly noted." He remarks slyly.

"It was good…" You laugh.

"It was pretty good, huh?" He teases lightly, his thumbs slowly starting to rub soothing circles against your knuckles. He chuckles, bringing his gaze up to your eyes again. "You don't make it too hard, my love. Just mentioning anything with a celestial connection and you're blushing like a school-aged teen, practically eating right out of the palms of my hands."

"It's the accent." You shrug. Blaming his pronunciation of his words and delivery. Mostly the delivery.

"Oh, now you're just grasping at straws, sweetheart." He quips again, grinning at you. "Now, I admit, my accent might be one of the finer things about me, but it's not exactly the primary reason you get all flushed." He hums, letting his thumbs press a little harder into your knuckles.

“You’re right, it’s all your hotness that’s making me swoon.” You feign a sigh.

"Yeah right, you big fibber." He calls you out, but there's a hint of a smirk that forms on his face. "You're swooning because you know who I belong to." He replies, his voice taking on a lower, gruff tone. "You swoon because you know I'm yours." His voice is just above a whisper, his eyes darkening. "Only yours, sweetheart."

You avert your gaze down to your lap. A faint smile displayed on your lips. But it slowly fades as Tyler tilts his head to meet your eyes. "W-what did they tell you?"

Tyler's face quickly morphs from playful to apprehensive. His thumbs had stopped their motion and now rested against your knuckles as he looked into your eyes.

"Let's not. Let's not talk about that right now." He says carefully, his dark eyes narrowing.

"Tyler, I can see it practically eating at you. What is it this time? What are they sending you to do?"

Tyler's jaw clenches, his eyes closing briefly as he lets out a soft sigh. He had been praying to anyone that you weren't going to mention his work for Weyland-Yutani. He should have known better. You were never the type to simply ignore the big elephant in the room.

His lips form into a thin line as he averts his gaze away from you. His mind is in an internal debate, contemplating whether to be honest with you or not. Tyler bites at the inside of his cheek, hesitating before he decides to speak.

"There's something new." He pauses, trying to organize his words. He looks at your face, noticing the growing sadness in your expression. His eyes soften as a wave of sadness mirrors over his own features. "They…" He pauses again, his jaw clenching slightly. "They told me it would be a retrieval."

"A retrieval for what?"

"Some sort of substance called Plagiarus Praepotens?" 

"Plagiarus Praepotens? What's that?"

"They didn't tell me much just that it was extracted from a xenomorph and combined with human DNA to perfect humans, whatever that means."

"A xenomorph...what the hell is that?"

"From what I’ve been told. I don't want to know."

"Tyler maybe this one isn't such a good idea. I mean from the sounds of it, it doesn't feel safe."

"I don't have a choice, my love." He mumbles, his head lowering in shame and guilt, the reality of the situation hitting him like a truck. He releases your hand from his grip and turns his whole body away from you. It pains him to feel weak but the truth is that is exactly what he is in the grand scheme of things. "I have my orders so I have to do this. I'll get them what they need, but not only that…" He inhales deeply. "I found a way to get us to Yvaga."

"Yvaga…Tyler what are you talking about?"

For the first time since you've known him, he looked desperate. In the years you'd been together, you've never once seen a crack in his confidence. He was always the strong and steady shoulder for you to lean on, but right now, in this very moment, that facade he usually wore was cracking. The facade he'd tried so hard to keep up for you was crumbling.

"I-" He pauses, swallowing thickly. "I have a plan."

"Ty…" You warned.

His eyes flicker around your face, his fingers twitching against his pants. His features shifting from desperate, to guilty and then finally to pleading. "There's cryostasis chambers on that spacecraft." He murmurs, licking his lips nervously. "I-I just need you to trust me."

"You're gonna go rogue…"

"No. No, I'm-" He stops himself short and he sighs deeply. "I-" He hesitates. His eyes are locked on your face and a wave of guilt washes over him as he sees the look in your eyes. "Damnit." He mumbled under his breath, his shoulders slumping.

He leans forward from where he sat on your bed, bringing his head close to yours. He tilts his head down and presses his forehead against your shoulder, his hands coming up to rest on either side of your waist. "Sweetheart…" He mutters, his voice hoarse. "I'll tell you everything. I swear. But, you have to trust me." He pleaded. He could feel your body stiffen against him, whether it was from the pain of his grip or from what he was asking of you, he didn't know. "I just want to get you out of here."

"Yvaga was always just a pipedream for us…It always felt so out of reach." You shake your head.

"It's not, my love." He whispers against your shoulder. He tightens his grip on your body ever so slightly. "It's not out of reach. I know it's not. I-I just need you to hold on for a bit longer. Can you do that, for me?" He murmurs, his head slowly pulling away from your shoulder, so he can look you in the eyes again. His expression had changed to one of almost desperation. "I meant every would I said about getting you out of here and I intend to keep my word."

"I know you do Tyler, but what are the risks huh? What's the catch in all this?"

"I-" He cuts himself off short, his eyes flickering away from your face for a moment. He knew he couldn't lie to you, you wouldn't accept that. But the truth wasn't going to make the situation any better. Instead, he slowly drags his hand up from your side to wrap a piece of your hair around his finger. He gently rubbed the strands between his fingers. He took a deep shaky breath before he was able to answer you. "Honestly..." He began, his voice low. "I need Andy to be able to access the entryways onto the ship."

"Andy? But that would mean you'd need to talk to Rain about him."

He nods his head slowly. "Yeah…I-" He pauses, hesitating. "I-I'll have to talk to Rain." He replies, his tone sounding reluctant. He didn't want to get anyone else involved in the situation, especially since he was essentially putting them on the line in the process. But what other choice did he have?

"Y-you're not gonna tell her about all this are you?" Your voice grows shaky.

He shakes his head slowly, his brow furrowing. "No." He murmurs in response. There was no way in hell he was going to drag anyone else into this. Putting you at risk was the last thing he wanted to do, but there were no other options. "It's you above everything and everyone else."

[alshamswelnahr]

Obanai is a character defined by his rigidness when it comes to demon slaying. This strictness is evident when he berates Tengen at the end of the RLD arc, urging him to fight until death instead of retiring. He also lectures Giyū after the Hashira meeting on his lack of understanding of his role and even ties up slayers for being useless and weak. This harsh standard extends to himself as well, as he punishes himself for his family's sins, believing his only path to redemption is through dying and being reborn anew.

Despite that, Obanai shows a different side when it comes to Mitsuri. In the final battle, he ensures she is pulled aside once gravely injured, asking the corps members to keep her safe. This decision increases the burden on everyone else, and he admits he will have to take on Mitsuri's share of the fight. Yet, he prioritizes her safety over his principles, something he would never permit for himself, no matter how severe his injuries are.

This is one of my favorite moments of Obanai because it shows him as human and shows how deeply in love he is. He logically knows they need every available fighter and is aware that even if she survives now, she won't live past 25, he also knows he won't live to be with her. But his love for her drives him to protect her no matter what.

[peachdues]

If you asked any number of Slayers within the Corps, most would tell you that Wind Hashira Sanemi Shinazugawa has no weak spots.

How could they possibly think otherwise? The combination of his wind-hewn appearance with the bold way he displayed every one of his scars would lead anyone to believe he was a man who didn’t care about physical limits, because he, quite simply, had none.

You however, you knew different. This sacred knowledge came only by virtue of you being the one privileged with warming the abrasive Wind Pillar’s bed, and it was a weapon only you knew how to use.

“Fuck,” Sanemi whined, his head thrown back. “Fuck.”

You smirked against his skin, savoring the way he trembled beneath you as you raked your hands down his outer thighs.

“What is it, Lord Hashira?” You swiped your tongue just below his navel and blew softly against it, your breath cooling the trail you’d left behind. “Is something wrong?”

Sanemi’s hips bucked from the seat of the chair where he sat, legs spread to accommodate your body as you knelt between his thighs. From below, you spied the way his biceps rippled as he strained against his bindings, his hands tied around the back of the lacquered chair in his dining room.

Bindings, made from your obi.

“You know what’s fuckin — shit,” his low growl was cut off with a strangled moan as you sucked harshly at his inner thigh, digging your nails into the other before raking them down.

Sanemi tipped back in his seat, a tendon in his neck straining and his chest heaving as you pulled away from his flesh with a pronounced pop! You smiled at the dark violet bruise that had already bloomed, admiring its stark contrast the paleness of his skin.

A gritted whine of your name disrupted your appreciation of your handiwork. With a careful smirk, you glanced up at the red-faced, panting Wind Pillar glowering down at you between his legs. When your eyes met his, Sanemi pointedly dropped his gaze to where his cock stood straight, nearly flush against his abdomen, and back to you, in accusation and silent demand.

You suppressed a giggle; it was clear that your beloved Wind Pillar was more than pent up and desperate for release. The tip of his length had nearly turned purple in testament to how long you’d been torturing him by using your mouth everywhere but on his cock.

You could have afforded him the sweet relief you’d withheld thus far, but truthfully, you were far too transfixed by helpless submission to justify giving in to his demands quite yet.

So you leaned in, allowing your warm breath to just tickle over the underside of his rigid length, before you latched your mouth instead against the delicate skin of his other thigh, branding him with another mark to match the one you’d just given.

“I swear to fuck —,” Sanemi’s hips bucked impatiently under your ministrations, his movements further limited by the restraints you’d tied around his ankles, locking him against the chair legs. You clawed down his thighs once more before you dug your fingers into their thick, rigid muscles, heaving him closer to you. “If you don’t —“

His threat went unleveled, however, as in a single, swift movement, you parted your lips around the leaking head of his cock. The moment your mouth opened to take him all the way down your throat, Sanemi shot back in his seat so violently, he most certainly would have toppled backwards, chair and all, if not for your hands slamming down atop either of his considerable thighs to keep him rooted in place.

“Ngh — thank fuckin’ Christ,” he ground out between a litany of groans. You peered up at him as you hollowed your cheeks around his hardness, and with it was with no small amount of devious pride that you noted the way his biceps rippled and tensed as the Wind Pillar fought against his restraints.

You returned your attention back to the rhythm you set as you bobbed your head, taking more of him into your hot mouth with every stroke. Boldly, you swallowed around his pulsing length, and Sanemi’s ragged pants and snarls devolved into wanton, cracked moans.

You lost yourself to the tempo you’d said as you worked his cock, answering his euphoric sighs with satisfied hums of your own. But before long, the melodic sounds of his pleasure was interrupted by the distinct sound of fabric tearing, accompanied by a sudden tension in the Wind Pillar’s body pinned beneath your hands. Before you could pull away from him to inspect the source of the noise, Sanemi’s hands came to rest on either side of your head.

A delighted thrill shot through you like a bolt of lighting; he’d managed to break free of his restraints by summoning all of his strength to rip your obi clean in half.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he panted, his fingers weaving through the strands of your hair. “Fuck — I just —“

His explanation guttered out in favor of a series of renewed, broken groans as his hips began to twitch beneath you, Sanemi meeting each stroke of your mouth down his cock with his own, shallow thrusts.

You hummed and the vibrations from your throat made him whimper. Ordinarily, you would’ve pulled away from him for breaking your “no-touching rule,” but something about the way you’d reduced the impenetrable Wind Pillar to a gasping, desperate mess under your tongue inspired a rare but temporary mercifulness in you, and so, you allowed him to continue holding your head in place as he pushed himself further and further down your throat.

You’d let him have this one, you decided. After all, the poor man was about to learn that his disobedience meant he’d have to spill his release on his own abdomen rather than in the haven of your warm mouth or cunt.

part of my 2024 ‘make Sanemi a needy lil bitch’ agenda

[redvdress]

A/N: Just to see you smile, Captain Levi could even listen to Connie’s stupid jokes. Isn’t this what we call pure love? No warnings, Levi is a secret softie

SHITTY JOKES

The mess hall buzzed with the quiet hum of conversation, the air thick with the scent of the evening’s meal—a simple stew with fresh bread, a rare treat. After a grueling day of training, everyone was feeling the strain, yet these shared meals were one of the few moments that brought a sense of normalcy to the lives of the Survey Corps. There was a comforting routine to it: the clatter of plates, the low murmur of voices, and the occasional burst of laughter, even in the face of all they had seen.

You sat wedged between Sasha and Connie, both of whom were already on their second helpings, having devoured their first plates in record time. Across from you sat Captain Levi, his posture as rigid as always, his hand loosely gripping a cup of tea. Even in these rare moments of respite, he was ever-watchful, his sharp eyes scanning the room. He never fully relaxed, but tonight, there was a subtle softness in his gaze, especially when it flicked toward you.

Down at the end of the table, Hange was her usual animated self, talking rapidly and gesturing wildly as she tried to explain her latest theory to Commander Erwin, who listened with a mixture of patience and amusement. “I’m telling you, Erwin! The Titans aren’t just mindless—they’ve got patterns we’re not seeing yet!” she exclaimed, her hands slicing through the air with each word.

Erwin, calm as ever, nodded thoughtfully, his fingers tapping lightly against the edge of his mug. “Interesting, Hange. We’ll have to look into that further.” His tone was even, though it was clear from the twitch of his lips that he was used to Hange’s more… enthusiastic outbursts.

Back at your end of the table, Connie leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Hey, guys,” he said, grinning as he looked around. “Want to hear a joke?”

Sasha groaned immediately, her head dropping into her hands as if she already knew what was coming. “Connie, please no. Not tonight. I don’t think I can take it,” she mumbled through a mouthful of bread. “Your jokes are almost as bad as the food ration days.”

Despite yourself, you smirked, waiting for Connie’s inevitable attempt. His jokes were terrible, everyone knew it—but somehow, they always managed to bring a laugh. Connie, completely ignoring Sasha’s protests, carried on, his grin widening. “Come on, this one’s actually good! Just trust me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sasha said, shaking her head but smiling. “This is going to be painful.”

Captain Levi, who normally would have shut down any nonsense in an instant, remained silent, watching with an unreadable expression. His eyes, however, occasionally flicked toward you. He wasn’t known for indulging in small talk or jokes, but something tonight—maybe the subtle tired smile on your face—made him hold back. He didn’t say anything, but his silence was permission enough for Connie to continue.

“Alright, alright,” Connie said, rubbing his hands together as if preparing for a grand performance. “Why did the Scouting Legion recruit the scarecrow?”

Sasha groaned loudly. “I don’t know, Connie. Why?” She sounded resigned, already bracing for the punchline.

“Because he was outstanding in his field!” Connie announced, his face lighting up as if he’d delivered the cleverest line of the century.

The table erupted into a chorus of groans, Sasha burying her face in her hands again, but this time she was laughing despite herself. “Connie, that was terrible!” she managed between chuckles, shaking her head. “How do you even come up with these?”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, your exhaustion lifting for a brief moment as the silliness of it all sunk in. Across the table, you caught Levi’s eyes again. His face remained stoic, but there was something softer in the way he was looking at you—something protective, almost fond.

“You look like you’re about to kill him,” you whispered to Levi, leaning in slightly.

Levi’s eyes flickered with a brief spark of amusement before he shrugged, the smallest hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “If it makes you laugh,” he said, his voice quiet but warm, “I’ll tolerate his idiocy.”

It was such a rare response from him, but somehow, it felt perfectly in character—gruff, practical, yet tinged with a hidden care that only surfaced in moments like this.

Meanwhile, Hange, having heard the punchline, let out a loud, cackling laugh from the end of the table. “That’s great! Outstanding in his field! Connie, you’re on to something!” she said, wiping a tear from her eye as Erwin smiled softly, clearly entertained by Hange’s enthusiasm more than the joke itself.

“You’re just encouraging him,” Sasha muttered, though she was still laughing.

“I think you’re just jealous, Sasha,” Connie shot back, grinning. “At least I’ve got a talent for something other than eating.”

“Hey!” Sasha protested, her face mock-offended as she shoved another piece of bread into her mouth with dramatic flair. “Eating is a talent! I’m ensuring we don’t waste anything. Very noble of me, really.”

“You’re like a vacuum,” Connie teased, but there was nothing but fondness in his voice.

As the laughter slowly died down, the mood around the table remained light. The shared jokes and banter, though simple, were a rare gift in their harsh world—a brief reminder of normalcy amid the chaos. Levi, his gaze now fixed back on his tea, allowed himself a rare moment of calm. His mind never wandered far from the dangers they faced, but tonight, in this small moment, he let his guard down just a little.

The night deepened, and one by one, the squad members began to retire to their bunks. Hange was the last to leave the table, still rambling to Erwin about Titan behavior as they disappeared into the hallway. Sasha and Connie left together, still bickering playfully about whose skills were more valuable to the team, their laughter echoing down the corridor.

Levi remained at the table, his eyes flicking toward you one last time before he too rose to his feet. He didn’t say anything, but his silence, as usual, spoke volumes. For all his cold, distant demeanor, moments like this were Levi’s way of reminding you—without words—that he was watching, and that in his own quiet way, he cared.

[beardedalcoholic]

Battle Gods

First Medical officer of the Galactic Union Revka Jihar looked on in awe as the human zipped from one console to other.

Sliding her chair from one side of the room to the other only to go back she displayed a true mastery of her job. Coordinating rank upon rank of human shock trooper forces into position, confirming approval of Human Medium Force Allowed, checking and double checking the health status of hundreds of humans, receiving reports from multiple divisions of engineers and mechanics about the status of one drop group or another…it was overwhelming to the Kalarian to watch.

“Shock Troopers stand by to stand by for final approval on drop, med squads confirm ready stations for injured, eng corps get those fucking launch tubes in the green before I come down there and fire you out one by one until I am satisfied my boys won’t hit atmo looking like strawberry jam, Hell Jumpers get to your pods and strap in we have yellow light on drop and I am not waiting for any Late Lucys should we get green.”

The rapid-fire communication of the humans had never ceased to amaze Revka, how they could say so much with so few words using only inflection, context, tone, body language and a myriad of other factors that they themselves seemed un-aware of.

Keys rattled like gunfire beneath First Rank Orbital Shock Drop Coordinator Amelia Hargrove’s nimble fingers, screens bloomed in thin air only to be replaced by others as they were dismissed. Within barely a handful of human minutes Frist Rank Hargrove sat back limply in her chair with her arms hanging down the sides as she breathed deeply in seeming exhaustion, Revka knew better though, he had seen this human go cycles without rest or nutrition.

An alert from the single remaining screen in front of the human grabbed her attention and her head snapped up from its slumped over position, the gleam of anticipation and sudden movement reminding Revka of the humans’ predatory lineage. Jumping to her feet with enough force to send her division command chair sliding back on tracks laid into the floor to the edge of the large room they occupied Amelia commed the captain of the ship.

“Captain Shelsa, Shock Trooper Command…I have green on all drop requirements, personnel and approval…Awaiting Final Command.”

Amelia Stood disturbingly still and focused as she awaited the order from her captain to release the humans upon the world beneath them. Revka stood in the back of the room next to the abandoned chair, furiously making notes upon his digital clipboard without even looking down at it.

Being the first species other than human to witness the deployment of Shock Troopers into an active battle field Revka was not about to miss a single documentable moment of what he was witnessing. The tension in the air radiating from the human in the middle of the large room was almost enough to choke him, the human had not moved in the slightest since her last communication, her muscles seemed to bunch beneath her skin tight command suit as the micro-cycles slid by, until…

“Shock Command, Captain Shelsa…you are green for trooper drop, repeat you are green for drop…Amelia!” First Rank Hargrove’s head snapped up at the sound of desperation and pain in the captain’s voice.

“Yes Captain? I am here.”

“…Amelia, these, monsters attacked earth…they struck down schools and hospitals…these invaders took my baby girl from me without warning or reason given…invoke the Battle Gods….”

First Rank Amelia went dead silent and painfully rigid from this last command. It was well known humans had music for all occasions and that they would perform different tasks with more or less efficiency depending on if music was being played to them and depending on the task or musical selection.

Revka felt his feathers bleach of all color at the last command…it was not a command given with hopes of leaving survivors, the Battle God Queen was something of a legend among different species due to the effect said music had on humans…but these last words were spoken with such cold venom Revka had to grip the deck plates with his talons to keep himself from bolting in fear. Revka watched as the Orbital Shock Drop Coordinator calmly answered in the affirmative, slipped an Augmented Reality Visor over her eyes and seemed to deflate as tension left her body.

Walking to the middle of the room First Rank Amelia began to glow softly as synaptic relays lit up across her suit, lines of light racing from her toes to her visor and everywhere in between, muscles slid with liquid grace beneath her suit as she stalked forward.

It started gently…hands lifting to flow through screens only she could now see through her visor…hands and arms moving like the conductor of a symphony Revka had seen on earth. With each movement a new small screen came to life around Coordinator Amelia, each screen containing a new face…the faces of her boys…the faces of humanities most feared ground-based battle troops…the Orbital Shock Troopers known only as the Hell Jumpers.

No words were spoken at first, Amelia simply stood there under the gaze of over five hundred trained, battle hardened, soldiers. Soldiers that were about to be dropped from orbit onto a planet light years away from home into a raging warzone with nothing but a small pod made to break away on impact to protect them from the heat and violence of atmospheric entry. None looked scared, no tears were shed in fear or pain, this was simply another good day to die for these individuals Revka realized.

“Kikiki! Kakaka!” The suddenness of Coordinator Amelia’s cry and movement nearly had Revka molting a full tails worth of feathers. Amelia slammed one foot down to her side so that she was bent at the knees.

“Kauana kei waniwania taku tara” Hands slapped into her thighs and stomach muscles in time to her chant.

“kei tarawahia, kei te rua i te kerokero!” Feet stomped and hands slapped as she continued her chant, voice raising to echo throughout the room.

“He pounga rahui te uira” Amelia’s voice rang with a clarion call to battle, it vibrated with the rage of an entire race that had been wronged as she raised a fist and slapped her arms.

“ka rarapa ketekete kau ana” Revka felt sorry for himself as he watched the display before him as he had not thought to make arrangements for his newly born clutch of whelps should he perish on this mission.

“To peru kairiri mau au e koro e!” Looking at the many images of the Shock Troopers arrayed before and around the still stamping and chanting Coordinator Revka could see that each one was focused upon her with a burning intensity.

” Hi! Ha! - Ka wehi au ka matakana,” Eyes narrowed, teeth were bared in rictus smiles, pulses throbbed in necks, nostrils flared in anticipation as the chanting grew somehow louder and more fervent.

“ko wai te tangata kia rere ure tirohanga” First Rank Amelia stamped and pounded her feet into the ground as if to defy fate to move her, as if she was seeing the future and challenging it to be anything other than what she demanded it to be.

“ngā rua rerarera” Hands slapped and struck with force that would shatter the bones of Revka’s species like she was trying to beat reality into submission and bend it to her will.

“ngā rua kuri kakanui i raro! Aha ha!” With one final strike First Rank Orbital Shock Drop Coordinator Amelia Hargrove let loose a sound that would haunt Revka’s rest cycles for the rest of his life.

The sound that echoed throughout the room seemed to contain all the suffering that had been felt at the hands of the enemy, all the pain of loss and the rage of those who could not do anything to seek retribution for those wronged. Screens lit up as each trooper dropped from the belly of the ship into the planet’s gravity well, each and every face pulled into a mask of rage and determination beneath face shields snapping into position.

Revka thought that perhaps the spectacle was over now that the humans had been sent planet side…until Coordinator Amelia’s arm snapped out and with a few deft movements brought up a simple non-standard screen.

The media screen floated barely a hairs breadth from the end of Amelia’s finger tips as she scrolled down a list of songs. With little more than a thought a song was selected and broadcasted to every shock trooper, soldier and crewman.

Drums beat and strings were plucked with a sense of anger lurking behind the sounds, after only a few seconds of this First Rank Amelia began to sing in a tone of voice unlike anything Revka had heard from the normally bubbly and flirty Coordinator, like gravel grinding in honey and rising into an angry cry tinged with desperation.

I feel the pressure is building in me

 My stomach's sick, it's getting harder to breathe

 I hear the screaming, I feel the disease

 It's burning me up and there is nothing to breathe

Will you crawl with me

 Will you stand with me

Would you follow me

Would you believe with me

Tell me you'll breathe with me,

 tell me you'll die with me

Come on, get on, let me hear your war cry!

Come on, get on, let me hear your war cry!

Come on, get on, let me hear your war cry!

Yell it out, do or die

Let me hear your war cry!

The battle that followed after the start of this terrifying song was less a battle and more a chaotic slaughter of the enemy. Humans that had been forged of star matter and tempered over eons of living on a death world and driven by madness channeled from a world in pain through musical Battle Gods dark and ancient tore across the land. They fell from the skies in gouts of flame like avenging angles come to strike down the very gates of Hell, no enemy was spared, no mercy given nor asked.

The battle had been long and hard, the final count of the dead had come out to one hundred and seven troopers lost out of over five hundred…a small number but one that was felt like a hammer blow among those that knew them.

Revka had stayed and watched the entire time as Coordinator Amelia somehow split her attention between directing troop movements and battle plans all while continuing to dance and sing to various songs of battle and victory. When the final call of victory came over the open channels the music was allowed to stop and First Rank Amelia fell still. Her arms hung limp at her sides…screens showing haggard and haunted faces of her soldiers, her troopers, her boys signing off one by one as they went to seek medical aid or further orders, synaptic relays dimming from a fiery blaze to a pale glow until they too fell silent and dark.

Revka walked slowly from his position in the back of the room towards the silent and still figure of the human known among the crew as Battle Siren…the one human who was expected to endure the responsibility of coordinating hundreds of war machines, who was given authority to make decisions in battle and who had to carry the weight of those decisions. As he got closer Revka noticed a new taste on the air, sharp and salty…not sweat, he didn’t have sweat glands and the skin suit Amelia was wearing prevented her body from needing to sweat…tears? Yes, Revka could taste the salt of tears on the air.

Slowly coming around to face the Battle Siren Revka was somewhat surprised to find a river of tears slowly falling from under the AR visor. With a deep breath as if she was emerging from deep waters Amelia lifted the visor from her tear-soaked eyes and seemed to stare through the bulkheads and deep into the void, then in a soft whisper she said a single sentence that would be taken to the Galactic Council and repeated again and again among those who thought to strike out against the humans.

“They sowed the wind with their strike against our young and injured…so too did they reap the hurricane of our vengeance.”

With that single sentence spoken a new sound began to emanate from the Coordinator, a long drawn out note not unlike the tune of a bell. Revka backed away and made his way out of the room, the Battle Siren had begun to sing a new song but not one of war and conquest, rather a song of pain and history filled with conflict but also about seasons changing and hope prevailing. The humans may have had a great pantheon of voices to channel inspiration from when going into battle, but so too did it seem that they had ones for peace and healing.

[moonshynecybin]

short fic (~1000 words ish) i wrote inspired by @kingofthering's wonderful fake dating au which you can find here ! go read it... anyways thinking about valentino and anger and his love languages and his insane little brain and PERFORMANCEEE and fame being a nightmare. anyways:

“And so my question, I suppose, is about your previous comments about Marc— would you say that you’ve put your feud behind you?”

Vale feels Marc shift from one foot to the other, his shoulders tensing under the lazy stretch of Vale’s arm. He’d tucked him there as soon as they’d entered the room, hoping the physical contact would sell it a bit more— give the two of them something to fall back on in front of the press— make their answers more convincing. Pictures sell faster than words, in his experience. But he shouldn’t have worried, Marc’s media training is a well exercised muscle, and his usual wide smile is pasted across his face. He’s good at this, but Vale may be the only person in the room who can tell how nervous he actually is, his slight change in posture and the rigid line of his jaw giving him away. Valentino is not exactly at ease, himself. It's the first time in quite a while that a press conference has made him feel like he was about to vomit.

Camera flashes light up in a dazzling flurry, pulling Vale back into the present. The entire room is holding its breath, paying careful attention to their answer, dying to know how two of the biggest stars in motorsport went from hating each other to being photographed together with one of them on their knees in the span of a calendar year. Sharks smelling chum in the water.

So Vale makes himself laugh, open and gregarious. Does what he does best— make it into something funny. Something that can’t touch him. Bring everyone else in on how hilarious it is, how absurd. Because if he thinks about it too long he feels like smashing things. He cannot fucking believe the nerve of this reporter. Cannot believe he has to do this. Cannot believe that Yamaha had asked him to let Marc do this alone. Cannot believe he thought about letting him. Cannot believe they’re pretending that they’re— that they—

“I would hope so! It would make being together very difficult otherwise.” He says, light enough to be a joke, gesturing between Marc and him. Marc’s hand tightens on his waist, catching against the smooth fabric of his Yamaha shirt. It’s the first verbal confirmation of what they said in their joint press release— that they’ve been dating. That they are together. That sometime in the off-season they’d reconciled and fell in love.

Of course, that’s not exactly what happened. It’s just harder to explain to the world that the sex you’ve been having with your rival 14 years your junior has been— well. Decidedly closer to something like hate sex than the kind of sex you have with a person that you’re in a committed relationship with. And that a lucky paparazzo had simply been in the right alleyway at the right time. And that Marc and him had barely been on speaking terms before the photo had hit the front page of every major publication in the world.

So here they are.

“And what about last year’s championship? Do you still hold the same opinion about Marc and Jorge Lorenzo's actions at the end of the year?” Another journo asks.

Vale pushes down the wave of emotion, hot and tense—embarrassed—that crests in his chest when he thinks about last year. That’s not what he’s here to do. He grits his teeth, instead. Keeps on smiling. He turns a little, uses the height difference between him and Marc to smile down at him, face close to his, and really sell it. The perfect couple. He winks back at the press.

“It sounds like you all want me to sleep on the couch!” He tries, and the tension in the room breaks, laughter tittering up from the press corp. A bomb defused. “No no no no, Marc and I, we are fine. We are better than fine, even! We are—“ He looks back at Marc, still too close, and pauses when he sees something complicated and delicate playing over his face. Something a little too real to be acting. But Marc quashes it when he sees Vale looking, and turns back towards the room, grin huge and polite. Vale’s words catch in his chest and tangle there for a moment, coming out a little stilted. He covers it with a theatrical shrug and a big smile. “We are good.”

As the press laugh, Marc’s shoulders unspool where they’re pressed against Vale—and he can tell Marc is relaxing, a little. Letting out some of whatever breath he’s been holding. It’s clear that what they’re doing, what Vale is saying, it’s working– the press swaying back to their side as they absorb the news, the shock of the two of them together. The picture they make.

Vale rubs a thumb over the bone of Marc’s shoulder. He's warm. 

Marc starts to speak. “You know, that is in the past. Valentino and I…” He searches for the words in English, brings a hand up to fiddle with his ear– one of his nervous tics. “We had a not so good relationship at the end of last year. But in the off-season, we talk. And learn to separate on-track and off-track. It is good between us.”

And Vale just about can’t stand that, even though he knows this is the plan. He can’t very well smooth this photo thing over and air his grievances at the same time. Doing this is the path of least resistance, he remembers. He tells himself. The one most palatable to the masses– him and Marc, united. Love overcomes all, he thinks bitterly. 

A journalist picks their head up.

“So it’s serious between you two, then? This is for real?”

Vale looks at Marc again, watches the slight flutter of his eyelashes, blinking as the question hits him. Vale wonders what he’s thinking about. If he’s wondering why they’re doing this, now in front of the whole world. If he’s asking himself how they let it get this far. Wondering why he got to his knees in that alleyway when Vale had told him to. Why he’d raced Vale the way he had the entire second half of last season. 

Marc’s smile dims, just for a second, and Vale pulls him closer.

He crushes the instinct to crack a joke just for Marc, to make him smile for real. To ask him why he’d had that look on his face a moment ago. To ask him to come to his trailer later just to– talk. Not to strategize with their PR teams, with their families. To just– be. Like it was before.

But that’s just not the kind of lives they lead. That’s not possible.

Valentino turns back to the press. Smiles. Lies.

“It’s real.”

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

land softly

Summary: Ghost & Soap are snowed in at a bed & breakfast. Fleabag voice: This is a love story. Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

Part 1 - Johnny meets a Giant

“Your destination is on the right,” the GPS chirps, and Johnny works hard to resist the urge to roll his eyes.  That doesn’t stop the involuntary cursing out loud, though, and with both hands on the wheel, Johnny sighs and looks at the rustic inn, cottage, whatever through the window.  

It’s…beautiful.  It stands starkly out against the white snow, looking like it belongs there, somehow, meek and delicate, yet like it knows how to hold its own, has had to hold its own against the dreary December weather.  

It’s no Marriot, but it’ll have to do. 

When he makes his way up the cobbled stone path leading to the front door and steps into the unlocked front room, he’s greeted by silence.  It’s toasty warm inside, attributable partly to the roaring fireplace, he’s sure, but also the cheesy 80s music that plays over an ancient radio.  Not a soul around, though and he walks up to the reception, but there’s no sign of one of those bells he can ring for someone’s attention.  Just before he can do something silly (like scream in frustration at his rotten luck), the front door opens and clicks quietly shut.

The man that walks in is less man and more giant.  He’s tall, but that’s like saying a bear standing up in front of you is tall.  Well, yeah.  

No, this man is tall and big, with broad shoulders and a massive chest.  A giant, truly.  A giant who’s currently glaring at Johnny.  A giant who’s glaring at Johnny…and who’s wearing a face mask ?

“Can I help you, mate?”  His voice is deep, rough, and it makes the hair on the back of Johnny’s neck stand up.  The man smells of smoke and spicy cologne, and his eyes take a leisurely pace looking at Johnny from top to toe.   

When the giant crosses his arms over his chest, Johnny’s eyes are drawn to how the movement dislodges flecks of snow from his shoulders.     

“Uh, ah don’t have a reservation, but have ye…got room for one?”

“Sign outside sayin’ we’re closed,” comes the short reply. “You missed it?”

Johnny sighs and rolls his eyes to the ceiling in exhaustion.  “No I–I didne miss it.  But I need somewhere to sleep tonight, alrate?  It’s cold, and ah’m lost.  Be on me way first thing in the mornin’.”

“We’re closed,” the giant insists, but his eyes flicker to the large windows anyway, and whatever he sees outside makes him sigh and his stance soften.  He uncrosses his arms, starts to take his coat off.  “Fine.  One night.”

“Thank ye kindly, mate,” Johnny murmurs.  He hands his own coat over when glove-covered and impatient fingers motion for it with another soft thanks .  “I’m John,” he says, while he hands over his drivers’ licence.  “Cold and lost, like I said.”

“One night, John.  Like I said.  Fill this out.”  While Johnny quickly jots down his personal information, the periphery of his vision shows the giant fidgeting with the edges of his gloves.  Tattooed skin peeks curiously out at Johnny, and when the fingers freeze, he quickly goes back to the form, a flush crawling up his neck in embarrassment.  

“King rooms are on the second floor,” the man says, giving the form a quick once over, and starts to walk deeper into the inn, though he freezes and whirls around suddenly to address Johnny.  “Need a hand wi’ those?”  Johnny looks down at his bags by his feet.  

Johnny could almost laugh.  “I’m alrate,” he confirms.  “You got a name?”

“Yes,” the giant says, and about turns, giving Johnny no choice but to follow.  

“Army?”  Johnny guesses, the giant’s posture and movements and rigidity a dead give away.  Also the muscles on muscles.  “Air Corps, meself,” he adds, and winces at the bitterness in his voice, hoping that he’s the only one who can hear it.  “Got out some time ago, though.”     

“Special Forces.”   

Johnny sighs and gives up, too exhausted to carry on the charade of being politely enquiring towards someone who clearly didn’t want the social interaction.  The big guy finally brings him to the end of the corridor, stopping and pointing at the two doors that he proceeds to open.  “Both king rooms, both the same.  You’re welcome to either.  John,” he adds, as though suddenly remembering his manners.  

Johnny glances inside and sees two pristine rooms, simple luxury in the middle of nowhere.  Only one has a bay window, though, and so he motions to that one.   He gets handed a key and his guide takes a step back.  “I’ll get out of ye way tomorrow mornin’, I promise.”

A stern good night is the only response he gets.  With that anti-climatic farewell, he hears the giant clomp his way downstairs, and then the inn goes entirely silent.     

For a fleeting minute, Johnny finds himself hoping for a blizzard.  There’s nothing he loves more than a mystery, after all.  He finds that, all things considered, he’s not too fussed about making it home in time for Christmas.  But there is someone he needs to call first. 

“Yer a fool, Johnny,” his sister chides before she even says hello.

“Hullo,” he says, chuckling, and she tuts in response.  

“Yer a fool,” she repeats.  “You’re not goin’ to make it home, pup, I know it.  I saw yer text!”

“Ah may not,” he admits.  “Ah’m so sorry!  I’ll try but the weather is just—”

“Dinnae fash, Johnny, ah get it.  Where are ye anyway?”

“This bed & breakfast in Yorkshire.  It’s alrate, I’ve got a roof above m’head for tonight.  And tomorrow, if ah need it!”

“But mam’s going to be—”

“Relieved.  Mam’s going to be relieved, she dinnae want me there in the first place.”

“Johnny…”

Johnny feels a little guilty making his sister endure Christmas with their parents, but at least she’ll have her husband and her toddler with her.  She’ll forgive him.  

Their mother?  Not so much.  

“It’s alrate, love, I get it.  I wouldnae make good company anyway.”  He grins.  “Give me little niece a kiss from her uncle Johnny, aye?  Tell her I love her.”  

“Tell her yerself!”  There’s a small pause, and Johnny’s grin drops, knowing what’s coming. “Ye’ll try ye best to come?”  Her voice is small and hopeful, and he feels a pressure inside his chest, making his heart squeeze painfully. 

“I will.”

They say their goodbyes and Johnny adds to the long list of promises he’s only been able to make.

[wing-ed-thing]

Marriage Pact (Erwin x Reader) Part III

Synopsis: To the surprise of the cadets, Commander Erwin is married to more than just his work. Their curiosity brings up fond memories of your and Erwin’s early days in the scouts.

Word Count: 6k

Tags/Warnings: Language, No Reader Pronouns, Fluff, Marriage Pacts, 104th Cadet Corps Shenanigans, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Original Characters, Alcohol

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Notes: This has been done and edited for... far too long.

Affairs were irritatingly mundane during the days that followed the Military Ball. And after all the show-boating and money that exchanged hands, the Scouting Regiment certainly had something to prove.

“Shadis is putting you on expedition command?” You blinked in pleased surprise. Erwin stood in front of your desk, thumbs looped in a pair of straps that bisected his torso. He hummed in confirmation. You offered him a light applause with the soft tappings of your fingers. “Congratulations, that’s promising.”

“We can hope so.” Erwin shrugged with near indifference, brows jumping for only a moment as he considered the notion. He heaved a steady breath of air, likely already envisioning the increased workload.

“Hope so?” you laughed, not quite paying attention to his rigid body language. “You’re being set up to take command for sure—”

“Are you able to take my squads for a bit?” Erwin interjected. You blinked at him, taken aback by the interruption. He took a slight pause before squaring his shoulder back. “Sorry for cutting you off.” He tugged at his collar.

“No, not at all.” You shook your head, forcing yourself to maintain the cordial smile on your lips. You offered a gesture of your hand. “Continue.” 

Erwin met your eye, matching your closed-lip smile of pleasantry, but only briefly. He dove right into business. 

“I’ll be needed Tuesdays and Fridays. I was hoping you could take my squads. I asked Hange, but they’ve got their hands full with R&D,” he explained with a curt nod. You stared up at him, almost lost. Taking on additional bodies for two days a week was already a tall order, but taking on five extra squads might serve to be impossible. 

“Okay,” you started, thinking before committing fully. If Hange couldn’t take them, you were likely the only one who could. Your eyes darted back at Erwin, who was waiting for your answer expectantly. Your lungs inflated with nervous air before you spoke again. “There’s no way they can be split—?”

“I don’t trust anyone else with my squads.” Erwin’s answer was swift. He stared at you with serious eyes and a severe expression. Erwin’s hands traveled from his leather straps as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. The sigh he heaved made you frown.

“There’s five of them. That’s— what?— over a hundred additional bodies?”

“Ninety-nine, actually.”

‘Okay, ninety-nine added to my eighty—”

“And I would owe you one.” Erwin leaned over the front of your desk. With one hand on the solid wooden surface, he imposed himself above you with his other hand back to clutching one of his ODM straps. The tips of his bangs swept gracefully over his forehead. Erwin glanced toward the door and then back at you.

You opened your mouth to retort, but your attempt at protest broke down into a resigned huff. You shook your head, raising your hands in defeat.

“Yeah, I can take your squads on Tuesdays and Fridays.” Your voice sounded more tentative than you’d have liked. Erwin quirked a brow. The crease on his forehead was subtle. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I can take them,” you said definitively, shooting him a glare of warning. “Don’t push your luck.” 

Erwin’s brows bounced again as he surrendered a step backward. You cleared a few things off your desk in search of paper to write yourself a note. 

“If you’re not busy, we could discuss details now. I could make us some tea.” You avoided his eye, a large part of you just wanting to use taking on his squads as an excuse to finally get some alone time with him to talk the whole marriage pact situation over.

“Shadis actually has me preoccupied. I’m actually due to meet with Edmonds any moment now.” He glanced at the clock on the wall before continuing to inch away. “I’ll send a memo by the end of the day.” He was already off by the time you looked up from your note-taking. 

“A memo?” You nearly spat, standing as he began to walk out the door. You shouted after him. “I’m doing you a favor, Erwin! You owe me!”

 He waved over his shoulder as he briskly walked out into the hall, not even bothering to look back.

“I know I do!”

***

There was a reason there were four section commanders. 

Between your four squads and Erwin’s five squads, regular drills were crowded at best. The larger venue you scrambled to book for the following month was just large enough to accommodate your combined teams for standard practice. And for forest training, you were required to wear your ODM gear the entire day to get from one side of the grounds to another. You must have gone through five canisters in one session of supervising alone. 

And so it went for the next few weeks. Almost every other day, you’d find yourself trudging up to the temporary training grounds far out of the way to meet over double the amount of soldiers you were used to. Erwin’s squads were about as obedient and competent as you could expect— Miche Zacharius alone took a hefty amount off your plate— but no amount of capability could take away from the fact that you were training half the branch two days out of the week. If it wasn’t for how well-coordinated your squad captains were, you might not have been able to pull off Erwin’s favor. 

You stood at the edge of the forest with eyes toward the treetops on a particular Friday at the end of the month. The sun was already setting as you deliberated whether you wanted to let your total of nine squads leave for the day— the main deciding factor being your air tanks. If it were earlier, you might have switched your canisters, but after your last few rounds through the treetops, you decided you were satisfied with the work your teams had done. You watched them whip around among the branches, waiting until things felt right for you to call it quits. 

The trotting of a horse sounded behind you. Just as you turned, Section Commander Fletcher dismounted. 

“Are you getting paid for all this overtime?” he laughed, jogging his horse forward to meet you where you stood. You heaved a deep sigh, hands on your hips just out of the way of your massive sheathes. 

“Can’t say I am,” you announced in the way otherwise polite words come out in fatigue. Fletcher pulled up beside you, gaze glued on the treetops above. A full squad of 28 members whirled by, maneuvering expertly through the branches and artificial targets.

“Wow,” he mused, a hand shielding his eyes from the beams of the setting sun, “You’ve got a well-oiled machine out here.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’d think I’d have it figured out, considering I’ve had them about a month now.”

“This isn’t figured out?” Fletcher raised a brow, jabbing his thumb up toward the flurry of scouts. You let out an amused scoff, head tilting up to bask your face in what was left of the light. 

“Flying by the seat of my pants,” you jested, but your words were true. Fletcher let out an amused puff before mirroring your posture. 

“Hell, if this is you making things up as you go, I’d love to see what you got when you do have a plan.” He shook his head in silent admiration. His eyes flickered to you, irises huddling in the left corners of his eyes as he studied you through his peripheral. “No wonder Erwin went to you first.” 

“He came to me because Hange was busy,” you laughed, “Honestly, Hange might have had better luck anyway. They’re more used to handling all the moving parts than I am.”

“Well, you’re doing great.” Fletcher nodded affirmatively. “Although, I can’t say I’m not pressed that I was the only one Erwin didn’t ask to take his squads…” His lips formed the slightest pout. “I could have sworn that Hange said he went to you first. Either way, we could have split them and done drills together.”

“Two of us and three-quarters of the branch? No, thank you.” Another laugh erupted from your throat, and you turned to fully face him for the first time that evening. You gave him a once over, noting the state of his uniform. “Um, Fletcher? You know your backplate is supposed to go on your back, right?” 

You reached over to loop your finger through the leather strap connected to his backplate and ran over his shoulder. His attention shot straight to where you tugged before Fletcher’s face drooped in reluctant acknowledgment. He held his hands up in defeat.

“Yeah, I know. But I got everything on before I realized, and I didn’t want to take it off and start over.” You withdrew, subconsciously looping your hands around your own tattered ODM straps. Fletcher continued with some more frantic waving of his hands. “Look, don’t tell Shadis. I’ve already faced disciplinary action for one too many mishaps with the uniform. He says if it wasn’t for my record on the field, I would have already been demoted.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone who always has it perfect,” you tried to assure him. With the condition your straps were in, you were probably in uniform violation far more often than Fletcher was. Although, being as high ranking as you were, it probably wasn’t the greatest example to set for your squads. At least with you, most people couldn’t usually see that your uniform wasn’t up to policy in the first place without a full inspection. Fletcher was less lucky. 

You heard your name a distance behind you, and by the time you turned again, Erwin had already ridden up the grassy hill on his white stallion. You perked up in surprise. Erwin spared a quick glance toward your company.

“Ah, and Section Commander Fletcher,” he remarked, not particularly content at the other section commander’s presence. Erwin smoothly slid off his saddle, tying up the reins to a nearby post with a flick of his wrist.

“Erwin! It’s good to see you finally resurface!” Fletcher waved. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Erwin retorted curtly, gazing briefly at the trees. The branches rustled with movement. “Don’t you have affairs of your own to prep for, Fletcher?” 

“All about business as usual, I see,” Fletcher chuckled. His horse bumped him with its muzzle, and Fletcher gave the opposite side of the animal’s face a few pats. “It was quite the day today. My soldiers deserve the early break.”

“So soon before the next expedition.” Erwin’s eyes narrowed slightly, although his expression remained nearly undetectable. Despite his subtle dismay, Erwin’s demeanor remained straight and proper. “How intrepid.” 

“If we work them too hard before the big day, they’ll be too exhausted to make responsible decisions.” Fletcher regarded Erwin nonchalantly, speaking lazily with his hands and a complacent twinge to his lips. Erwin blinked at him, scowling.

“Well, it’s good that we ran into each other,” he said, “You’re needed at headquarters. Something about one of your squads duking it out in the mess hall again.” 

Fletcher’s face just about went white, and he needed little encouragement to mount his horse and start racing back toward Trost. He shouted something over his shoulder as he rode away. You only caught bits and pieces of promises to resume talking to you soon.

You watched him retreat down the hill, lost in fatigue from the day.

“Fletcher is an idiot.” Erwin’s voice cut through your daze. The harsh bite of his words hit you like an electric shock, causing you to perk up in acute astonishment. 

Erwin didn’t meet your eye as he watched the speck that was Fletcher and his horse in the distance. He just stood there, posture straight and face stoic as he looked off toward the Walls. You opened your mouth to comment, but he soon brushed past you, leaving his scent in his wake. You stalled for only a moment before following him.

“What?” You wondered if you had heard him right. Erwin hardly spoke disparagingly of others— particularly not his peers— let alone so blatantly.

“For all that natural instinct Shadis sure puts a lot of stake in, Fletcher is an absentminded fool who won’t make it to see winter.” The inflection of his voice rose at the end of his sentence as if he were talking about a nice breeze. He shrugged, an uncomfortable and rigid indifference about him. Erwin focused on the equipment of his gear, standing just ahead of you at the edge of the forest. 

“That’s mean.” You frowned. Erwin tightened one of his thigh straps.

“You know it as well as I do; no need to be coy.” He began rolling up his sleeves. You checked the time, wondering if Fletcher wasn’t the only superior officer to let his subordinates out for the day. “It’s better if he kept his destruction to his own squads. I don’t trust him around anything of mine.”

Perhaps you were devoting too much mental energy to your agreement, focusing too much on what exactly your relationship with Erwin was because his words left his lips and paralyzed you where you stood. You stopped mid-step, head jerking slightly in surprise.

“Anything of yours?” The words left your lips before you could even think.

You quickly snapped your mouth closed, meeting Erwin’s gaze with your own slightly widened eyes. You stood frozen, almost afraid to move.  Erwin’s forehead creased, his mouth contorting downward with acute confusion. He cocked his head toward you, trying to decipher what the miscommunication was. 

“I don’t trust him around my squads?” 

“Oh,” you breathed, avoiding eye contact. You shook your head as if to physically dismiss the thoughts racing around your head. You covered your face with your hands, hiding the embarrassment and mortification that contorted your features. “I thought you said something else.” You shook your head again. 

“What did you think I said?”

You continued to avoid meeting Erwin’s gaze even as you stepped up next to where he stood. You waved your hand in the air, not doing a great job of looking nonchalant. You stared straight ahead into the forest in an attempt to look normal. 

“Don’t worry about it. I take it you want to round them up?” You gestured toward the trees. Your canisters were on the lower side regarding fuel, but you could afford to take one more trip around the training grounds. Luckily, Erwin didn’t pry.

“I’d like to catch the tail-end of their progress,” Erwin hummed. “And to see how severely I’m about to be out of a job.” You shot up into the trees together, landing on adjacent branches.

“Yeah, when you get promoted to commander, I’ll be working overtime taking on your teams while we train your replacement.” You were already on another branch, an impressive distance from where you started. Erwin wasn’t too far behind as you each signaled for your squads to regroup. 

“You seem to be under the impression that Shadis will be relinquishing his title soon.” You could barely hear Erwin’s baritone voice over the wind in your ears. You whipped through the treetops together, expertly avoiding the soldiers flying through the air from the other direction. 

“I thought we talked about playing modest?” you teased, swinging just ahead of him.

You landed next to each other, having reached the far end of the circuit. Your team captains were already leading your nine squads back the way you came to regroup and dismiss for the day. There was a notable shift in the air, no doubt caused by Erwin’s commanding presence. Everyone was eager to show off their coordination with the two of you present and watching.

“You’re talking as if you aren’t also very well qualified.”

“Erwin,” you grumbled with a roll of your eyes. You slapped him on the bicep with the back of your hand, “Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying…” He whistled, playfully mocking the smile you tried to fight off. He didn’t even bother to hide his snickering. Erwin never looked old by any means, but even so, when he laughed, he seemed to become five years younger. 

“Alright,” you sighed, the corners of your mouth still slightly upturned, “Let’s wrap this up. But I hope you know you’re taking charge on this one because I’m sick of looking at your squads—” You snickered, absentmindedly turning toward Erwin. 

He stood with the thick wood of a branch beneath his boots, and his hand wrapped around an anchored cable which kept him steady. Erwin simply watched you. You dared to think he held something sentimental in his gaze, just like the night you made your pact. You turned to look over your shoulder, which garnered a chuckle from Erwin. 

“Hey—” You were quick to snap in jest but weren’t allowed to say much else.

—“Would you like to grab a drink tonight?” Erwin mused.

You almost lost your balance right then and there. You instinctively moved to grip your own anchored cables.

“Yeah, sure,” you answered quickly, perhaps too quickly, “What time?”

“Let’s meet outside the gates at, uh, seven.” Erwin punctuated his decision with a decisive nod. His anchors reeled back in with a snap before he cast them out again into the forest. He didn’t miss another beat, already gearing up to set out through the branches again. You heard yourself agree before you both set off, ready to rein in the troops for the day.

***

You barely had time to stop home before it was time to meet Erwin, but you’d be damned if you were going to show up to your date in your uniform and the grime from the day on your skin. 

To a lack of surprise, Erwin showed up early. He leaned against the brick pillar that held the left-side gate outside the Trost headquarters, seeming to have also changed clothes. Erwin retired his uniform straps and trousers for a pair of beige slacks. A grey leather jacket draped over his elbow, the dark color contrasting his white button-up. When he saw you, he perked up, pushing off from the pillar to meet you. 

“I hope you’re okay with a walk,” he announced, his projected voice bouncing off the cobblestone street as he gestured in a vague direction with his thumb. 

“Sounds good to me!” you answered, jogging up to meet him directly in front of the closed metal gates. You set off down the road together, chatting about random things from the day. 

You didn’t see Erwin very often outside of work— although, given the nature of your professions, you still continued to see each other for obscene amounts of time between meetings, expeditions, and trainings. Even in contexts where you’ve slept within the same vicinity of each other, you were in uniform and on duty more often than not. 

As you walked, you couldn’t help but consider how different he looked without his uniform— like something was missing. You wondered if you looked the same, although you didn’t have time to do much special preparation of your appearance between work and your meeting time. Your hair was still in an ODM-safe style. 

You didn’t consider that this would become the norm when you were married. However, a growing part of you was gradually becoming more convinced that Erwin wasn’t actually serious about the agreement at all. Quite frankly, he hadn’t brought it up once, and you were sick of how often your pact had been on your mind. The extra thoughts only served to ruin the perfectly decent friendship you had with your coworker. 

Things were never like this with Erwin before, and surely, a soldier as high ranking as you had better things to worry about; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I do appreciate your help this past month,” Erwin said, somewhere between your passage between walls Rose and Sina. 

“It wasn’t too bad,” you admitted, not quite able to accept his thanks, “Your team leads are amazing. I couldn’t have done it without them.” Erwin’s brows rose in pleasant acknowledgment.

“That’s great to hear.” He nodded as you turned onto a familiar street. 

The pub sat on the corner, and Erwin moved ahead of you to grab the door. Only then did you realize that the place Erwin took you to was Mulligan’s.

—“You said you liked the ale here.” He smiled. He was definitely talking before you tuned back into reality, and you already missed the first part of what he said. 

You carried on with a simple hum and pleasant smile, drifting into the pub with Erwin, who led you to the bar. The far wall was covered in military memorabilia. A military police cloak and a set of ODM straps were displayed in the center, surrounded by hand-drawn portraits of service members from all three branches and newspaper clippings of various achievements. A set of wooden stairs sat on the far left of the wall, leading up to a loft area with seating. Erwin ordered ales for the two of you. 

“We don’t get to do this too often, do we?” Erwin draped his jacket over the back of his stool. “I think the last time we even saw each other out of uniform, it was—”

—“Walkers’ retirement party,” you said in unison, smiling at the memory. Your mouth remained slightly agape as you struggled to calculate how long ago that was.

“That was— what?— twoish years ago?”

“Three.”

“You’re kidding.” Your cheek molded into your palm as you rested your elbow against the bartop. You squinted slightly as you glanced up at the ceiling. “I remember Baker’s promotion was two years ago, and I thought Walker left a week after or something.” Your ales appeared in front of you. The rim of your glass brushed your bottom lip as you spoke. “Because that was the year Baker had to separate those two rookies who got tied together during training.” 

Erwin shook his head, swallowing his sip of ale.

“Walker retired three years ago, but he got so bored he tried to get his old job back about a year after Baker was promoted to his old position.” He motioned decisively with his hand as if painting an abstract, invisible timeline in the air. Your lips formed a circular shape as the memories clicked. 

“Right.”

“Not that the minutia matters,” Erwin quickly clarified. He waved again in the air before taking his ale to his lips, meeting your eye from above the rim. “Three years seems like too long of a time to me.” 

You stared into the foam on the top of your drink, watching as the white bubbles formed a perimeter along the section where you had been taking your sips. You averted your gaze as you spoke.

“Would that be considered normal for colleagues?” you asked with a raise of your brows, playing with the handle of your glass. Erwin studied you for the briefest moment in your peripheral before shifting in his seat with a shrug.

“I find the length rather excessive,” he admitted, expertly avoiding your actual question as he slung an ankle over his opposite knee. He sat somewhat straight with an arm on the back of his stool, and the other mirroring yours leaned against the bar. “It’s nice we could meet at such short notice. Talking about work all the time is hardly conducive to our dynamic, don’t you agree?”

“Excessively formal as always,” you sighed. You almost thought you saw him let out a single puff of amusement before he dove back into his ale. You saw your chance and took it. “But I’m glad you brought that up, because I think it’s time we talked about—”

“If a little bullying was all I needed to do to get you to visit, I would have done it sooner!” The chatter in the pub was cut by the booming voice. All heads turned toward the loft as an unnatural silence overtook the space.

Marie appeared at the top of the steps leading down from the loft, a tray of empty steins and glasses balanced on one hand. Her apron only served to emphasize the size of her enlarged stomach. Marie waddled down the steps, a few servers and patrons rushing to her aid. All talk within the pub slowly returned as most people turned back toward their drinks.

“Shit— Marie! You’re gonna fall!” One customer hurried to her side, taking backward steps down the wooden planks to give Marie his arm for stability. A server quickly scooped the tray of glassware away, the towers of empty beverages clinking and wobbling on top of each other. 

“Oh, thank you, Steven. I could have gotten that.” Marie blinked, not watching the rest of her journey down the stairs.

“A business owner shouldn’t be bussing tables, let alone pregnant! Please go home!” a server urged. Marie only offered him a light smile, not acknowledging any of the pleadings that clamored around her as she made directly for you and Erwin. 

“You didn’t bully me into anything, Marie,” Erwin sighed playfully. He stood out of his seat, but not before offering you a swift dip of his lip to you in apology. Erwin heaved himself up, ready to face Marie’s complaints, and you followed suit. Marie wasted no time in pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Oh, sure, sure. Nothing to do with that military schmooze-fest last month. I haven’t seen you here in years, Erwin! Shame on you!” You barely had time to think before Marie let Erwin go and latched on to you next. She slotted herself a bit to the side to properly hug you. Her demeanor seemed to melt as she grasped you firmly by the shoulders. 

“Wonderful to see you again,” she said, smiling warmly. 

“It’s good to see you again, too,” you reciprocated. 

Marie pulled away, hands crossed over her chest as she took in the both of you.

“Drinks on me tonight!” She accented her exclamation with a single nod. 

“Marie, please—” Erwin attempted to reason with her, but Marie wouldn’t let him get a word in before she was already talking to the bartender.

“Thomas! Please refill these ales— Oh! And put in for an order of pretzels!” Marie met your eye and offered you a wink before disappearing into the throng of patrons. Even then, Erwin wasn’t allowed any time to complain as the door to the pub swung open wide enough to hit the adjacent wall outside. 

“Fuck! Be careful, Hange!”

“Yoo-hoo! Is that two workaholic scouts I see emerged from their caves to party with us?” Hange threw their hands up in the air, completely blocking the doorway. A few prominent regiment members piled in behind them, uttering various grumblings about moving out of the way. Miche’s face popped up over the crowd.

“Yo,” he nodded toward Erwin. The volley of scouts flooded the pub, spreading across empty tables and chairs. Hange, as well as members of yours and Erwin’s squads, began to approach the bar. 

It was the last weekend before your next expedition. 

How could you forget about something like that?

***

Jean didn’t expect such a mild reaction out of you, especially after they had trashed what he could only assume was one of your most prized possessions. The moment the door opened, visions of extra brutal drills and penalties beyond his imagination flashed before his eyes, his dreams shattering like the broken picture frame on the floor. Jean could only imagine what a cross-branch punishment entailed.

Eren was quick to try to explain, quickly lurching forward with your first name spilling from his lips, thankfully with your rank. A few other members of his cadet class tried desperately to explain their presence in your office, but you remained expressionless.

You stood wordlessly in the doorway, and as the room erupted into defensive panic, your eyes were only focused on the shattered picture frame. Jean saw you in his frozen silence, following your line of sight to the floor. He knelt down to salvage the mess. 

“Don’t touch it; I don’t want you cutting yourself.” Your voice was neutral and level. You crossed the office in seconds, plopping your miscellaneous files on your desk before plucking a broom and dustpan from a tall cabinet.

“Let me get that!” Jean and Eren exclaimed in unison.

The cleaning process was slow. The only noise that dared to vocalize in the room was the soft brushing of broom bristles on wood. Your scouting paraphernalia sat in its usual closed wardrobe just above a small office trashcan now filled with broken glass and the broken frame. One of the seams where the wood had been glued at the corner had fractured, forming a jagged line. 

You stood as still and expressionless as you did when you first entered while Jean finally articulated their presence in your office after hours. He considered your neutral demeanor the worst part of getting caught. There was no yelling or a scrunched-up look of disgust, just active and silent listening. You only nodded, seeming to think to yourself without giving away any hints about the nature of your thoughts. 

“We wanted to know if you and Commander Smith were married,” Jean admitted plainly. There wasn’t any way around the truth. He studied your blank gaze. You were listening but didn’t have commentary to give quite yet. He bowed his head sheepishly. “I know that talking about things like that is really inappropriate, and coming into your office is even worse. We’ll replace your frame and accept any punishment you deem fit.”

“Speak for yourself…” Eren muttered.

“Now’s really not the time for—!”

When you spoke, “There’s ten of you?” was all you said. 

Jean assumed you were counting heads for when you reported to Commander Pixis— or worse, Erwin. But it wasn’t until Jean sat on your worn, leather-covered couch with a cup of tea in his hands that he started to wonder.

You didn’t answer Jean’s question until the last cup of tea had been poured. 

You sat with it, looking into your reflection in the steaming beverage as you perched on the front of your desk. The picture— which looked rather flimsy without its frame— sat to your left. You crossed your ankles, the tips of your shoes brushing the floor as you leaned back on one palm. You took a sip of your tea.

“Yeah—” You shrugged. —“Erwin and I are married.”

The room collectively choked. 

“See—?!” Jean could only get out one word before he broke into a coughing fit, the words rushing to his lips before he could even think about the liquid in his mouth. He covered his face with his arm and sputtered into the fabric covering his elbow. A violent dribble of liquid splashed over his chin. You offered him a cloth from your tea cart. “See? I told you! I told all of you—!”

“God, Jean, shut up!” Connie’s speech was muffled by the tea cracker passing through his lips. Eren smacked the back of Jean’s head before stepping to the other side of Mikasa. Jean’s coughing fit began again. 

“I think that's so cute!” Christa’s exclaim cut through the brewing feud on the other side of the rug. She leaned forward, squishing her face into her palms with a childlike glimmer of excitement in her blue irises. Ymir rolled her eyes, much more interested in the bowl of snacks making the rounds. “How did you guys meet?” You laughed almost giddily.

“We were section commanders together before I transferred to the Garrison!” 

The smile on your lips gave away the fond thoughts and memories that flashed across your mind. The group of new scouts huddled together, the eleven of you forming a circle sprawled out across your office. They sipped their tea, eager to indulge in a self-imposed late-night story session. “And now we’ve been married for almost ten years.” Reiner held his hand up shallowly in the air, his fingers slightly curled.

“I got a question for ya,” he began. You nodded like a teacher fielding a student’s question. “Has he always been so…” Reiner trailed off, leaning deep into his seat on the couch that faced Jean’s. He stretched his arm out so that it rested on the tops of the adjacent cushions. “Uptight?” 

“Reiner!” Bertholdt scolded under his breath, nudging him for emphasis. Bertholdt sank slightly lower in his seat, expertly balancing his teacup and saucer. 

You hardly took offense as anticipated, laughing out loud instead.

“I suppose Erwin’s always been more strait-laced, even back then!” you mused, glancing up at the ceiling in thought. You swung your feet, drumming your fingers at the front edge of your desk before returning your attention to the group. “I will say, though, it’s a good trait to have in a commander, especially for the scouts— not that I have to tell any of you that. He humored me a few times when it came to, you know, your usual antics, but we all— Erwin included— knew he was being groomed for that commander position. He liked to stick to the— the rules if that makes sense.”

You nodded before sipping your tea. You thought that answered the question, but unbeknownst to you, you only served to further pique everyone’s curiosity. However, none of them were able to ask any of their burning questions before Christa’s voice silenced the entire room.

“So, when did you fall in love?” she asked, and her words bounced off the wooden fixtures in the office. It seemed as though all attention turned to her as she sat giddy, a knee to her chest as she anticipated your answer. You took a moment, apparently too long of a moment, as tense silence filled the room. 

You tried to hide your shock, voice stalling in your throat as you struggled to find a good answer. Mikasa stared at you with a sharp keenness in her eyes.

“You aren’t in love, are you?” she said as more of a definitive statement than a question. You were quick to answer.

“No, I wouldn’t say that.” You shook your head, still searching for what to say. “I—” All words stalled in your mouth when you looked up at the gathering of scouts. All eyes were on you, waiting silently. Staring. You sighed. “We had a marriage pact. And that’s not to say we don’t care about each other.” That last part tumbled from your lips like an avalanche.

“A marriage pact?” Reiner grumbled, but once again, you didn’t even have time to answer.

“It’s when two people promise to marry each other if they reach a certain point in their lives and are still single,” Ymir explained before you could. She looked at you as if allowing you to tack on any details she left out. You could only nod.

“That’s not very romantic,” Reiner bluntly spat. A few low hums of agreement dotted the room. You didn’t register how his words rattled something in your chest. 

“So, what, did you both turn a certain age and just… what? Get married?” Eren leaned on the back of the seat where Armin sat. His elbows sunk into the worn leather. “How does that work?”

“Did you have an actual wedding, or was it, like, courthouse?” Connie asked with his mouth full of a tea biscuit.

You sat on your desk with your tea in your hands. Your grip hadn’t left the saucer and cup handle in the moments you sat on the hot seat of their gaze. Your agreement with Erwin wasn’t something you necessarily kept secret. Still, the pointed questioning stirred something within you you couldn’t identify. The former cadets remained huddled together, clearly intently interested, with no signs of leaving anytime soon.

You sighed, refilling your tea.

“There was a couple under my command who had a marriage pact. I was telling Erwin about it one night before an expedition,” you began, and the entire room sat in interest as the sun set on the other side of your tall office windows.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: It's so odd writing "Christa" instead of Historia. I also wonder how many of my deep cuts land whenever I write for this section of the timeline. Sometimes I wonder if people think Marie is an original character. I mean, given how little she's in AOT she might as well be.

On another note, I really wanted to wrap things up in this part. But I think there was too much set-up for the last expedition/proposal for it to fit in one chapter. Once I hit 5k I knew my fate was sealed...

I don't know if I should write the wedding because I imagine it to be small and intimate. It might make this fic 5 parts. I only really wanted to write 3. I know engagement usually drops the more parts there are. People don’t seem to like long stories, but I dunno what do you think?

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Stupid, Stupid, Emotionally Unavailable Erwin Smith (Levi x Reader x Erwin)

Notes: I’m happy to add people to the tag list, but requesting to be added without interacting with any part of this series outside of your tag request will result in a swift block

@goddessinsweats @lionhearted-soldier @answer-the-sirens @piercedddriver @scarletrosesposts @thewrittenromance

[helloescapist]

The Hashiras in a Relationship | Obanai Iguro

Word Count: 8077

A/N: phew, not my favortism showing at all. Oops.

Setting: Obanai Iguro x gn!reader [we do have mentions of Obanai's gynophobia]

Content Warning(s): none, I sort of behaved. We do have spoilers though! Be ware!

Summary: sweet, fluffy love relationship cannons for Obanai Iguro from attraction to love.

To be loved by the Serpent Hashira is to know dependability. It’s the touch of night, serene and quiet in the late hours. Soothing as the shy moon that lingers in your heart. A star-crossed lover, never destined to touch upon the face of its lover the sun. Rare moments to embrace rare and few between, meaningful bursts that light up the sky. No, it is the reliability of the luminescent glow cast upon a stone path, a guide in the dead of night as he faithfully chases after his lover’s warmth. Loyal, and always one step behind, but never straying, always within grasp. Fingers lightly brushed, a gentle lover who will always show you compassion nurtured in the shadows. Cultivated in the light of the late hours, gentle as the whispers of support and affections laced on his tongue. The tender gaze upon your silhouette far to entranced in the glow of the night to notice the way his heterochromatic eyes are captivated by you.  Enchanted by your grin, bewitched by your giggles. Dazzled by the twirl of your sway, the jovial sway of your hips as you spin beneath the stars. Quick to ensnare you within his grasp when you stumble on the stone path, secure to his side. The glow of his mixed matched eyes the entrance to other worlds, galaxies concealed by the vast contour of space. Tremble of delicate, beautiful eyes afraid of the emotions that lay dormant beneath his averted gaze. Revealed to you, and you alone, just as his love.

To be loved by Obanai is to accept that you will need to embrace patience. To be tolerant of his needs, and adapt as they come. Like the moon, the Serpent Hashira has many faces he adorns, and only those who dare to gaze upon his shadows are gifted with the beauty of his reveal.

Savor the quite moments, knowing that your love needs no noise to fill the silence. Breathe in the comforting notes of eucalyptus when he dares to draw closer. An eternal dance, rhythms of heart in sync. Never daring to draw attention to the graze of his shoulders against your own.

Obanai has quite the reputation amongst the corps for being a cold, and distant individual. his demands for Uzui not to retire do not help this rumor. Quick to dismiss those beneath him, and isolate himself from his peers. It’s in his nature, and his upbringing, but beneath this mask he bears, is a surprisingly compassionate man.

One who has survived the horrors of the world, and looks to a new future. A dedicated man who will do everything in his power to protect those he cares about. This lends itself to his closer relationships, as despite how it may appear, Obanai is willing to put in the effort to maintain relationships. from guidance by Uzui to tea time with Kyojuro.

To those he deems worthy of his respect, Obanai is willing to expend his social battery to grow stronger bonds. It’s easy to mistake his steadfast loyalty to the Demon Slayer Corps and regulations  as rigid, and unforgiving, because In a lot of aspects. It is.

He cannot trust nor accept anyone who has strayed from the code. He will live and die by the rules, and does not understand those who stand by these convictions. Obanai is abnormally loyal, and expects the same return. He is fairly narrow-minded and one tracked when it comes to his convictions, and the code.

His loyalty extends to all aspects of his life, from his inner network of coworkers, to his respect to the Ubuyashiki clan, to you as his lover. He is no stranger to hard work, nor is he one to falter when obstacles come between you. Rather, you will find that Obanai will meet challenges fairly head on to secure the bond between you.   

That being said, Obanai can be fairly pragmatic in his approach, and because of this, you will rarely see slips of emotion through his porcelain surface. He remains sensible regardless of what troubles may come, and it certainly has it’s advantages.

He is a reliable lover, and will always remain by your side. Even when he needs his own space. he’s never far from you. Like a shadow. Because of how dedicated Obanai is to the success of the relationship, he is actually a fairly good listener, and enjoys listening to you ramble on and on about whatever it is you wish to discuss.

You may often find yourself carrying a majority of the conversation, and may worry that you are boring him. you are not. Other times, you may truly fret on whether you have left the Serpent Hashira enough room to join the conversation. he’s so quite that you may feel like one of those jerks that never allows others time to add to the discussion. You’re not, and he’s genuinely enjoying hearing your voice.

Finds comfort in your enthusiasm, and basks in your warmth. like a snake blossomed across a rock under the sun’s rays. That being said, he is fairly pragmatic, and if you’ve approached him with a problem even if you do not wish for it to be solved, he’s solving it. as quickly as he can, Obanai cannot stand the idea of you having difficulties even if it’s necessary for your development. also, he just genuinely hates emotional conversations.

He is not up for gossip of any kind.

The Serpent Pillar is by nature, fairly traditional in a sense. On the one hand, he keeps fairly traditional ideals--- such as the reminiscent of the samurai code towards their lords reflected in the way that Iguro regards Ubuyashiki which is just a shame as Ubuyashiki would never wish for any of the members to choose death over life.

Yet, despite being fully aware of how the Master mourns those who have been lost, the swordsman will not be swayed from his ideals. On the other hand, he has a tendency to be a bit unconventional.

He is aware that societal expectations require a fair amount of social interactions, and is willing to play along when it comes to the demands of his position. however while he is steadfast in his responsibilities, he will not maintain a bedside manner.

He has shown up for duty, and takes his tasks seriously, but that does not mean for one he will play nice. such as in the case of training Tanjiro and the other mizunoto in swordsmanship.

like Muichiro, his favoritism and respects are not subtle. You will always know where you, and those around you fall with him. He’s to the point, and direct about it.

No really, he will not hesitate to praise you in front of everyone, before offering the most horrific finger jab and insult at your training partner. things with your peers/coworkers will be tense.

But truthfully, I feel like this is in a sense a small part of his kindness. Yes, he savored the moment to express openly his distain for others, but at the same time, I feel like Obanai takes training others very seriously. He takes slaying demons, and the upcoming generation very seriously and gods he has little hopes for any of them.

But it’s because of this that Obanai’s punishments are… creative. The truth is that should they make the very mistake of bearing weakness to a demon as they had to their own instructor, the opponent will not hesitate to claim their life, or worse. Obanai was raised in cage, he knows there are fates far worse than death..

 In orchestrating a punishment that they will never forget; he’s ensuring that they will not make the same mistake twice. they will not die due to shoddy instruction.  It’s the overanalytical aspect that meets his strive for perfectionism head on that can make him unforgiving a teacher, and a leader.

He is an inherently observant individual, and it is because of this that he can see every faulter in your swordplay, any shift of weight that could lead to you being easily knocked off your feet, and disarmed. Which is what leads him to drilling into you and those around him to ensure that such gaps are erased from your movements. he does not wish to see any of you die.

Iguro is a stable individual. He’s consistent in his habits and his mannerisms. You may be surprised to know that he is consistent in his behaviors, and for the most part, not easily knocked off kilter. He’s secure in his personality, and balanced. He is not easily disturbed, nor is he easily upset.

Because of this, you will find that Obanai can be fairly forgiving of his partner. Just as patient with you as you have expressed towards him. You will not find him easily agitated by small miscommunications between the two of you, he is aware that he is not always the easiest person to comprehend.

He would much rather dedicate his energy to straightening up the misunderstanding, and ensuring that this same blunder will not happen again, and is by all means true to those he deems worthy. In fact, he’s almost rigid in the way that he conducts himself. While others such as Muichiro and Mitsuri have the ability to accept bygones, Obanai is unyielding.

Unable to accept infringements in ideals, and inflexible to come to a compromise. ironic given his breathing technique.

As you may expect, Obanai adores a partner who has their own desires in life and is amazed at ones who can express their dreams. Someone who has adorned sunshine in their hearts, and continues to pursue their goals will bring so much sunshine to his otherwise bleak existence. Which is necessary as Iguro really does struggle to release control from his finger tips, and a lover who is able to relinquish control will leave him breathless. desiring to join your side at the cost of his own comfort.

Just as the Serpent Hashira has high expectations of his students, Obanai can be just as unforgiving in his ideals for a partner. He knows exactly what it is that he is looking for in a companion, and will not bend to a partner that does not meet his standards. He is not making exceptions regardless of what beauty nor skills you present.

If you are not up to his caliber, then your capabilities have no merit with him. Iguro eally won’t hesitate to turn anyone down. I dare say he would reject Kichijoten, the goddess of beauty and happiness if he deemed her far to flirtatious.

Obanai needs an open and honest partner. One that does not hesitate to express any thoughts or doubts that cross their mind. Whether it’s fretting over their own capabilities with the sword, or in preparing dinner, or if that they have become concerned about the state of the relationship, Obani does best with someone who will be willing to allow themselves to be vulnerable with him. ironic as he will not be forth coming with his own insecurities.

However, it may be because of the innocence of his partner, that he is able to place more trust in you. He cannot pursue a bond that he does not feel secure in, nor a partner who he does not deem reliable.

He needs a light-hearted partner more than anything, someone who will embrace him and all of his faults. Catch his fingers between their own, and tug them along, eager to show him the bunny burrow they discovered during their morning chores. Someone who would eagerly rush home from the shopping, eager to show a cute little snake motif dango that the vender had sold as a limited edition.

The way your eyes beamed up at him despite your obvious state of undress, leaves caught in your hair snagged on a lower branch in your rush. He feels embarrassed for you but gods above you’re adorable.

As someone who he can put his faith and trust in, Obanai needs a companion who will keep his word. He wants someone who will always keep their word, regardless of the prickle bushes they may go through, or do anything within their power to keep their oath.

The day that you spread through demons to be at his side despite the obvious danger, uniform torn into in various places, and lacerations that littered your body. You swore you would be at his side. and you were.

Even small oaths, things such as keeping your word to complete a household task. To make his favorite meal, or hang his laundering for him when he’s pulled away from duty. They all mean so much to him, and he needs to be able to trust that you will always deliver. Because the gods above know that he will. Heaven nor the seven hells could prevent him from keeping his promise.

Really, dependability is non-negotiable in his book. He will accept an outgoing lover one who will shout his name over the crowds, heedless of the way passerbys look at your crazed state he’s blushing at how wildly you wave your arms eager to be seen, and he will adore a shyer partner, one that stumbles to meet his gaze.

But under no circumstances, will he ever accept a partner who he cannot depend on. He needs to know that you will stick with him through thick and thin because to be honest, Obanai is aware that difficult to deal with.

I strongly believe that the Serpent Hashira wants someone playful. He spent his entire childhood robbed of all opportunities to engage in play, and I believe that a partner who is high-spirited. Someone who from time to time can be mischievous. Toss the laundering over his head, seizing his momentary confusion to wrap him in the blanket, snug over his shoulders. Only released if he pays a kiss toll.

Someone who is perky, inviting, and warm. The day that a ball wandered into your yard, plucked between your fingers. A smile that met your face upon nervous small children peeked over the fencing before challenging them to a game. Quick to draw him into the mischief even though the little kids were rightful uneasy. how gentle you were to teach him the rules embraced his inner child.

It will be necessary that you are patient, because the reality is that a relationship with the Serpent Hashira means navigating hidden waters. A partner who cannot read between the lines will not do well with him, you’ll both become frustrated with the pairing.

Not that he won’t be patient for the beginning of the relationship, but as time goes on, if you have not mastered the underlining context, he will take it very personally. Snippy in his remarks as well, and it’s likely only a matter of time before things head down hill quickly, he just does not have the ability to engage in an emotional warfare repeatedly.

Obanai also approaches things rather head on, so if you are truly not taking his words at face value, well, this just isn’t going to work, and he’s not wasting his time.

Because of how private and elusive Obanai’s tendencies often are, alongside his gynophobia complicating interactions gendered partners, there are two scenarios I can imagine him becoming acquainted with his partner.

Let’s be honest, in general, Obanai requires a good bit of time to grow attached to someone, and due to his dysphoria with the female gender will lend itself to a lot of obstacles for individuals with she/her as their pronouns. Where as he/him, and they/them will have a significantly easier time of becoming acquainted with him.

The first and foremost would likely be a slightly older recruit who’s position is similar to that of Aoi’s (capable of swordsplay, but primarily cares for tasks) that has been entrusted with teaching the basics of the world to Obanai upon his rescue by the former Flame Hashira, Shinjuro. The decision being a combination of Shinjuro’s inability to properly engage with a child we’ve all seen him and the Ubuyashiki both observing Obanai’s desperate need for companion and proper socialization with a peer. The wedded duo knowing exactly who to assign to his well-being. Let’s be clear, the initial meeting did not go well. The mixture of trauma and anxiety and is that a snake?, contact was similar to that of approaching a soaked stray cat who wanted nothing to do with you. Quick to hiss and furrow, snip at you, and obscured profanities, but as time and dedication went on, your loyalty to the task that the Master had set on your shoulders spurring you forward. One day scooted to your side upon hearing a fairytale between gentle lips. Reading from a text you had borrowed from the Lady Amane, whispered tales to the garden, well aware that the young boy had once again taken to the trees. Slowly, but surely scooted closer and closer before peeking over your shoulder at the water paintings across the pages. In time, you would teach him so many things, an older sibling figure intended to guide him. until you weren’t to him.

The other scenario would be a recruit the same age, or just a little younger that through a turn of events has found themselves under the care of the Demon Slayer Corps, just as he had. Muddled by your own circumstances, and yet, despite all you had been through. Your smile had not faded, nor did you hesitate to reach out your hand to him. Eager to drag him to the gardens. Try to convince him to play even when he refused. Dedicated in your training regardless of how the both of you had been put through the ringer a number of times. Your optimism never betraying you, nor leaving his side. Joyful and caring, determined to stick through your hardships through thick and thin.

Although of course as we have seen with Mitsuri, Obanai could also be a completely ordinary girl. Sunny, and sweet, and blissfully aware of the way of the world, who is far too excited and preoccupied at the opportunity to become a tutor in etiquette to the young Ubuyashiki siblings. Completely innocent as they are naïve. It was the smile that claimed his heart.

The truth is that Obanai needs a little excitement in his life, and someone who would seize every opportunity to enjoy moments together. Someone who is playful, but just as content to snuggle in to his hold on a gentle spring morning. He needs a partner who takes their duties quite seriously, and stoically faces obstacles, but just as goofy and silly as they sew a small, matching haori for Kaburamaru. Kaburamaru needs a haori to match Obanai. Change my mind.

Really, he just favors a lover who is in tune with their own needs and desires. You want to eat a pound of dango, run through the rain, dance beneath fireworks, or sing silly song with the neighborhood children, he’s adoring you from a far. that tree. He’s in that tree. It is perhaps your jovial approach to life that puts his heart at ease.

Dishonesty has no place in his relationship. The Serpent Hashira would rather be met with blunt honesty than a sugared lie. Iguro would much rather face a difficult obstacle, harsh realities about pasts, and mistakes, rather than be diluted in a fantasy. He loves you, not a lie. It is also to consider how his familial background impacts his rigid approach to integrity and honest if you ever become frustrated at how unforgiving he can be when met with a fib. he is not a tool.

You will also find that surprisingly Obanai does not have room for aggression in his heart. While he can be biting with others, the reality is that he does not have a firm bone in his body. and you will discover how terrifying he can be towards anyone who dares show you belligerence. The reality is the same gentle nature he gives you; he expects in return.

He will not accept a partner who is aggressive or hostile to him. There are just so many ways to communicate and address stressors in your relationship, that there is just no excuse for belligerent behavior towards your partner. You are each other’s safe space—no one feels safe with a biting partner. He doesn’t want that. he’s had more than enough of that in his lifetime.

Regardless of how life has gone, Obanai is a believer that you should do everything within your power to make moves for the better. Just as he is determined to purify his blood from the curses of familial lineage, and Uzui is to make a difference in the world, the Serpent Pillar has zero tolerance for someone remains a victim to circumstance.

Let’s be clear, it’s not that he does not sympathize with someone who has been drowned to the depths of despair. he will be more than comforting to your pain. However, you cannot remain there. Life cannot stop moving. You have to keep moving. even if he’s dragging you.

The Serpent Pillar has a few tendencies in the pre-relationship to Shinobu than others may expect. Just like the Insect Hashira, Iguro will spend quite a long time in this stage of the developing relationship than most people. I suspect, out of all the Hashira, he remains here the longest. It is the period in which he is interested it, but doubtful.

Actively trying to find fault in your existence to prove that the way his heart flutters when he sees you is absolutely meaningless—he’ll stay here even longer than Kocho. He is observing. Everything. I mean everything.

Iguro is analytical, and spends more time than he will ever admit disecting every single interaction. Skewering the evidence to prove that you are not what you seem to be. He really is noting every single interaction—not limited to himself. How low did you bow to Ubuyashiki? Were you considerate of Lady Amane, and did you show proper appreciation to Aoi for nurturing your wounds? How you regard the kakushi. Obanai would dump you if you were rude to a waitress. I just know it.

The serpent breather takes respect very serious, as well as boundaries. He is quick to respect any boundaries you set between the two of you, and is not the type to push for more than what you wish to offer.

That being said, he very much expects the same in return. Do not touch him. Do not dare force physical interactions, or desires on him. It’s not that Iguro does not have them—he just isn’t the type to act on them early in a relationship.  

He prefers to get to know someone very well before jumping into a relationship, let alone physical affections. this man may like snakes, but he’s a turtle. For obvious reasons, it will take some time for Obanai to show vulnerability, even if he really is fond of you.

He’s not quick to allow intimate gestures, or allow his bandages to slip from his lips, but it shows the depth of his passions for you when they come unwound. but that’s a slight nsfw thought

In courting, it’s important to note that Obanai values sincerity, and as such, you can expect any manipulation or mind game tactics will not be met with the reaction you want.

Ploys to lure another person into your bed with the intent of making him jealous? Yeah, that’s super ineffective. In fact, I would say any prior attraction is canceled, and he will take extra care to either avoid you in public, or openly express his disgust with you. lethal.

Any situation that Iguro has been put in to intentionally foster distrust with you is indicative that you are not the person he thought you were.

As rigid as he is, and how limited his communication skills can be at times. You’d be surprised that Iguro does enjoy discussions. However, it’s nothing mundane. He’s not interested in idle gossip, nor is he intrigued by the happenings of town or even the inner ranks. He finds these discussions absolutely boring.

However, if you gravitate towards intellectual topics, you’ll find him quick to engage. To ask you questions, to delve deeper into your interest. Have an odd interest in ancient cultures, he is all ears. Fascinated by the early mechanics of the era such as the steam engine, Iguro will listen to you recount ever detail that you can. he’ll bring home books if he comes across them.

The Serpent Hashira has his own unique interests, and can be draw to the most obscured of arts such as his interest in candy crafting. he doesn’t even have a sweet tooth; the technique just leaves him awestruck.

Because of this, Iguro enjoys listening to any interest or study you have found yourself immersed in. Actually, if you have a book or series, you have been invested in lately, try to lure him into the plot. He enjoys reading in his free time. he’ll leave little pieces of poetry for you to find.

Honestly, by the point flirting comes into play, Obanai has already concluded that the relationship is not worth pursuing, and because of this, you can expect that his ability to be coy is not practiced.

Despite how much of a natural perfectionist the swordsman is, he is more than aware that his ability to court is not his strong suit. Never expect a big grand gesture, such as declaration in the middle of the village, or for him to intercept a wedding to spirit you away. It’s just not in his nature. The more well practiced flirting techniques such as bouquets, and proclamations of desire, yeah, they all seem forced. Uncomfortable and unnatural, as though he is wearing someone else’s skin. He has no desire to come off as insincere, especially in winning your heart.

If anything, it is his desire to always be straightforward with you that leads him to relying on more subtle attempts. Such as the way he naturally gravitates towards you, or the gentle way he regards your name. It’s his indirect approach that may take you a while to realize that he’s interested. but you should catch on fairly quick given how he treats others.  

So pay close attention, the proof is in his behaviors.

Because truthfully, while Obanai is observant to a fault, his ability to read other’ people’s reactions and emotions. Suck. He finds the entire process confusing, overhwelming, and downright uncomfortable.  

Obanai will rely on the fact that he even tolerates your present as an indicator which is… stiff at best. But when you consider how little Iguro is willing to engage in social interactions, there is certainly a reason why he’s inquiring about your duties. he’ll take a few of them off your hands.

More so, he really wants to get to know you, all of you. He has an incredible memory, and will retain any information you delve. Whether it’s a distant memory of assisting your parent in the kitchen, chasing after lanterns with siblings, or even the way you found yourself peeking over the fence at neighbors in childhood mischief, Obanai will remember all of it.

He will also seize upon any opportunity to prove that he has been listening, and assist you in any way he can. You might’ve mentioned a loose roof tile in your home, he wouldn’t hesitate to spend his free time securing it properly. Shared a memory of how you remember that your grandmother would always secure her sleeves before setting to work with a yellow ribbon, he’ll pick you up one when he’s in town.

Whether he realizes it or not, Obanai savors any opportunity to prove what a reliable partner he would make. Unsure how to express himself, or his intentions, less confidant in how to approach matters of the heart. but now you know why Kaburamura has been snipping at him lately.

Confessions will be slow, and take so much time and stamina. you’re amazing for hanging in there. As time draws on, and you’re becoming more and more clear that he’s attached to you, I feel like Obanai can either respond rather well to you confessing your feelings or poorly.

Really, it’s the days to come that will determine whether or not he will accept and return your feelings. IF you have made the decision to confess first no one blames you, as long as your heart is true and patient, willing to accept that he may not return these feelings, and wishing to remain as you are.

Understanding that he may need time to process, to approach how his stomach has flipped and Kaburamura nipped him. Give him time or months, Obanai will return your affections in his own time. However, if you cannot respect his autonomy, you will discover that he will recoil from your touch.

Further prodding will give him the impression that he has been lured into a corner, and left with no escape, he will outright reject you, and flee. he’s not looking back.

However, if Obanai has worked up the nerve to confess first, it would be in the sweetest of regards. Gentle, and self-assured. Tender as he expresses exactly why he is drawn to you, but kind in the way he allows you space.

The Serpent Hashira has no desires to entrap you. you are not a mouse.

Rather, he wants you to feel safe, to know that if you should turn him down, there will be no repercussions. Nor will his feelings falter. Rather, he will simply love you as he always has. from afar.

He is content to allow you all of the time you need to determine whether you wish to pursue a relationship with him, or not.

To have made it into dating is an accomplish no others have accomplished, and can expect that dates are viewed as a practical sense of time. Well intended with the opportunity to get to know you.

Obanai really views this as the perfect chance to get to know you on an intimate level rather than from a distance, or through the lens of a friend. Dates for the most part will default to fairly traditional routes. Walks through the garden, perhaps dinner, or a small picnic.

Iguro is not one to enjoy extravagance, whether in his personal belongings, or appearances certainly not his food, and because of this, dates that are simple are preferred.

Although he does appreciate when his partner takes the time to plan out thoughtful dates for bonding, so long as it’s not formal, he’s happy to go along with whatever it is you would like to do. Humble dates, such as flower viewing, or even hiking will always be a win in his book.

Even more so, games whether board games, or even childhood back and forth of hide and seek or onii will be well received. Obanai is even the type to enjoy curling up together, reading poetry. as time goes on, and he’s tired from his duties, you may even coddle his head in your lap. Is definitely the type to enjoy cooking together as a couple.

It should come as absolutely no surprise that Obanai has no appetite for a casual relationship. He avoids them like the plague. Short-term flings are just unappealing. The idea of something fleeting that would pray upon his security and vulnerabilities, just makes his skin crawl.

Nope, this isn’t happening, and if it does, it was an extremely rare encounter. buy a lottery ticket.

Once Iguro allows himself to admit that he has fallen in love, he will be quick to give himself to you. All of you. It’s true, he will still have a deep seeded need for alone time rather frequently, and it’s important to respect this need.

It’s not a desire, it is the difference between a mentally well man, or depraved individual. Rest assured, the distance only deepens your bond, and secures his attachment to you, alone. absent makes the heart grow fonder in this case. he’s not straying, really when he says he needs time in solitude, it’s a genuine trek up the mountains to camp alone for a couple of nights.

To connect back with the severed pieces of himself. Not to sneak off for a booty call. he’s really not the type.

Actually, if Iguro ever feels himself detached from you to the point that he considers an affair, he’s just leaving you all together. It’s harsh but, well…

Although expressing his affections does not come naturally to him, do not believe for one moment that he does not value you. He worships you. It’s rather that the Serpent Hashira is better suited to logical ends, and practical applications. The aspects of the relationship that lends itself to it, such as paying bills, picking up groceries, making dinner, ensuring you are well cared for when you’re sick, this is when you will find that your partner is a quite compassionate.

Quick to tend to your needs, and eager to care for you. However, when it comes to outwardly expressing how his eyes will always find you in the room—he’s a mess. There’s no way to quite explain it, it’s just that the words cannot be strung together.

As Iguro desperately grasps for them, they slip through his fingertips, evading his touch, and leaving him frustrated and muddled. Desperate to express his devotion, but unable to verbalize the depths of his love.

No, Iguro is the type to focus on the aspects of the relationship he can thrive under. The ability to improve your life with his presence, to make your life easier. Sharpening your blade for you, scooting all of your belongings to the lower shelf within reach, he is always looking for the opportunity to express his affections. just not verbally.

Really, it doesn’t take much to make him happy—he really just loves the opportunity to incline into your touch, rest upon your lap, occasionally reaching up to thread his fingers through your hair. Small tender moments mean everything to him.

Know that after his time away, Obanai will come back happier and more devoted to you. Far more engaged, and in tuned with your needs than when he left. he needs to learn self care. Period.

But understand that this goes deeper than you may expect. His upbringing was not an easy one, and because of the way he was raised, it’s naturally that he often prefers his own company than that of others.

This doesn’t mean that he does not need or want intimacy, it just means that he needs you to appreciate your time together as much as your time apart.

He really is quick to prove his affections in ways that he feels comfortable. Hanging laundry, sweeping the home, really and truly, what you see is what you get with Iguro, and then some. he’s sneaking poems into your luggage for when he parts for the mountains.

In a sweet way, as time goes on, you will find that Obanai becomes more and more genuine with you. Straightforward and honest. Really and truly, if you prove yourself a loyal partner, you can expect more and then some in return. He wants a relationship that is built upon trust, and a foundation of mutual respect.

One in which you are dedicated to each other regardless of the hardships or distances you will face. because he will always part for duty. Obanai is one of the most loyal romantic partners amongst the Hashiras.

If you are able to open up, and actually express your emotions fairly openly the way he adores, you should know that he envies it. he thinks your amazing

Although he may struggle to cope with an relationship that vocalizes emotions so much. The attention to what has not been said, overlooking what he has done for you, it will do great damage to the relationship and his confidence.

In fact, I believe that if push comes to shove, Iguro will struggle to survive a relationship with an overly emotional partner. He needs you to appreciate him for him, just as he appreciates you for you. The truth is, Obanai can often feel overwhelmed by intense feelings. Someone who always leaves him guessing will only erode his mental capacity.

He is by nature prone to reading into things more than he should, and if he has found that this is the only way to survive his relationship, he will take apart everything. it’s never good.

He has a way of being weighed down by the little details in general, and is quick to lose sight of the big picture amongst the evidence. He will drown in the depths of his anxiety and pessimism. It’s best to avoid this entirely.

Because of this, Obanai really needs a partner who will answer him point blank. Don’t worry about hurting his feelings, or that you are being blunt. He really prefers it. It gives him comfort and security that he is meeting your needs as you need them.

It’s really the key to a happy Iguro relationship. It will provide him with all of the confidence and security he needs in the relationship, and you will come to find that under this trust, iguro is a rather passionate and attentive partner. Quick to rub your shoulders in public if you have expressed that they are sore, shifting the load of groceries from your fingers onto his own burdens, the press of his lips quick to seek yours out when the opporunity presents itself. he’s touch starved, I just know it.

A stickler for traditions, will always approach them in the way they have always been done. Whether it’s noodles upon the new year, or mochi towered during the mid-autumn festival, Iguro is vigilant in securing the traditions and carrying them with him.

In fact, he may be quite stiff to follow any additions you may have to offer. imagine him standing on ends if you decide to bring him home for the holidays. Poor boy would be panicked to be offered a plate at the table.

He does not know how to handle being the center of the attention. It’s not necessarily that he’s outright shy, but he is very reserved. Obanai prefers to stick to himself, and his own means, only allowing those close to him to linger on his skin.

As such, opportunities of flaunting him will make him uneasy. He doesn’t enjoy the open praise in public, and will shift from sight at the first opportunity. like asnake drawing away from humans.

As Obanai is fond of more simple abodes and pass times, you’ll enjoy how low maintenance he actually is. He is content to give you your space, and time alone just as you give him. He will not fuss about you spending time with your friends, or departing to care for your sick mother in another providence. he’ll just miss you, but he’ll be waiting for your return.

Commitment is at the forefront of Obanai’s thoughts when he dives into a relationship. He wants an old timey romance, one in which there is only you and him. No others, and in which there is no drama, nor is there jealousy, or strays from each other’s embrace.

Iguro desperately wants someone to be vulnerable with, and he does not take commitment lightly. Rather, it’s of such significant importance to him. such as the way he dared to reveal his facial scars to you near shattered his heart.

If you have not figured it out already, communication with Iguro sucks. I mean, it just, sucks. You will have a better time communicating with Kaguramura if you rely on emotional discussions to cultivate a relationship. I just imagine that the little noodle helps the best he can.

However, for Iguro, he doesn’t have a fondness for words, placing a strict importance on actions. There will be no fluff, nor bedside manners when it comes to more serious matters. although his compliments are genuine. really, he just prefers to allow you to carry the majority of the conversation.

That being said, he is not one to leave room for misunderstandings to foster between you. He’d rather press into the topic firm and straightforward than allow you to believe for one moment he would ever betray you. As such, Obanai is not compromising. In fact, you will find that to a majority of disputes, he is not willing to yield. Nor admit fault.

Confrontation in a relationship has a way of capitalizing on his weaknesses in communication, and as such, he fumbles and often feels strangled by his own thoughts as he struggles to piece them into a cohesive sentence. Will be ridiculously tight. Rigid as though he is presenting a case to a jury.

Truthfully, most fights and discussions can be navigated fairly easily as long as you are willing to speak literally no metaphors please!, and keep the discussion short. It really will go quite a long way in ensuring you are on the same page. Even better is that it allows Iguro to apply his need to fix it skills in a way that benefits the both of you.

The Serpent Hashira has a tendency to take slights or criticisms fairly hard. an attribution as to why he does not like Giyuu, and as such, it’s important to note that Iguro is rather sensitive to outside forces impending into your relationship. He naturally views any spectators with immediate suspicion, and for the most part, he is able to logically sort it out.

Remind himself that you have never given him cause to doubt, but should his thoughts lead him astray, it’s likely something that he will internalize rather than discussion. He is protective though.

Fiercely so. While he may not be as possessive as  one would expect. I mean, you expected it right? In reality, Obanai greatly respects your autonomy, and values your opinions and decision making skills. That is not to say that he will accept everyone you invite into your circle. you can get along with them; doesn’t mean he has to.

But his protective instinct is inherently high. He knows what lurks beneath the hearts of humans, and how fickle they can often be. If he suspects that your new friend may conceal hidden intentions, he will not hesitate to act.  To shield you from the horrors of the world, of demons, and human flesh. He will without a moment’s notice, place himself between you and death.

It’s natural to consider if a family is in the future, and truthfully, I just see Obanai avoiding biological children to the greatest of his capabilities.

On one hand, it’s the fact that he was never given a parental figure, or treated in the way befitting of a child, and as such, Iguro is confident that he would not know what to do with a little bundle.

On the other hand, the Serpent Hashira is so disgusted by his on bloodline, desperate to scratch off his own flesh as a means of escape, that an intentional blood child is out of the cards. and trust me, he will work hard to prevent it.

Though should the fates intervene birth control of this era is fault, or if he has just picked up a child that clings to him during one of his missions. I believe that Iguro would not shirk his responsibilities.

Rather, I believe he’d make for a rather supportive and encouraging parent. Not the type to place high expectations and demands upon those in his care, but rather, just provide love and support and protection. I can even see the Serpent Hashira enjoying the little bundle in his arms with great trepidation.

Anxious at how little one can be, new to the world. Pure. Obanai would naturally gravitate towards diapering, potty training, and soothing the child at all hours of the night. Delicate to teach them games, and self-defense, cook them meals, and tend to boo-boos, but he will shy away from the emotional demands.

he’s giving you late nights, you can handle the tears.

As you have already been clued into, Obanai is a master at expressing love through more practical applications. Acts of services is his go to in order to prove his dedication to you, and he is not one to shy away from any opportunity to express his love physically.

You can expect that he is more than willing to take over the dinner duties upon noticing the exhaustion on your features. To rub your temples, when you have mentioned a headache. To draw a bath when you are fatigued, or dirty. In a surprising way, Obanai is a natural care taker. go figure.

Initially, if you have a preference for acts of physical intimacy to express affections, you will find yourself disappointed, and abandoned. He just isn’t comfortable with having his space invaded upon your initial match, or in public.

However, as time goes on, you will find that he is very willing to grasp your hand in a crowd he doesn’t want to lose you he claims, or allow his shoulder to brush against yours in a restaurant, to catch the strands of your hair, and fan you in the heat of summer. In a well-developed relationship between the two of you behind closed doors, you will find that he will more than make up for the absence of his touch.

Quick to wrap himself around you in an embrace, to claim you. You will have to beg him to release you. but do you really want to?

For fairly obvious reasons, if you have a preference for quality time, his affections may be hit or miss for you. On the one hand, he genuinely enjoys the chance to be around you.

Doing absolutely nothing if you so desire. Curled into one another, or reading books within fingers reach. Watch the leaves dance across the veranda, snuggled into a blanket with tea, but on the opposite end, Obanai needs his space.

He’s a frequent flyer of solitude, and as such, there will be times where you will struggle to balance your needs with his own. It can be a delicate balancing act that leaves you both frustrated.

Take it one day at a time, and savor the moments that he provides you. They’re genuine, and uninterrupted.

Words of Affirmation will also be a stumble, but not right ignored. While Iguro is not the type to express his love in a verbal paragraph, you will find that he is fairly forth coming with his compliments. his face is red as yours.

Yet he will drop compliments on you out of the moment, often leaving you blindsided and reeling from the heat of his gaze. They are far and few between, but they are honey laced truths that he dares to share with his resolve.  the hint of all he leaves unsaid burning your insides.

Iguro is not a bad gift giver, however it’s best to limit your expectations. He is not the sort to bring home lavish perfumes. he hates the scent that dares to taint your odor. nor is the type to bring home outlandish accessories.

Too many embellishments obscuring your natural beauty, nor is the type to bring home a ridiculously large bouquet, but this doesn’t mean that Obanai will skip over the sentiment all together.

Rather, Iguro is a master of sweet gifts. Simple pleasures. A small sweet wrapped in a delicate cloth. A simple hair pin that captivated your beauty. Flowers he handpicked upon his journey home. A Small dragonfly pin that matched your eyes perfectly. His gifts will never obscure your natural beauty, each item selected with care.

The reality is to be loved by Iguro is to know a love that will transcend time. It will endure loss, and distance. Heartache, and torture, it will endure the tests that the world will throw at it, and the punishments of the night. It will lend itself to tender touches, and gentle gazes. It is patient as it is kind, never asking for more than you wish to give. Only going where it is you lead, through meadows, through forest, and mountains, to depths of the sea, it will follow you whereever it is you shall go. It is compassion through strife. It is delicate and as plush as the press of his lips. Fragile as his features revealed beneath the moonlight. Eyes that avert shyly before being lured back to your side. Docile as the way it leans upon your shoulders. It is simple as the touch of the waves upon the sand. Affectionate as the sky that shatters beneath day break. The reveal of a small smile that falters to age. The curl of his fingers through your hair, soothing ends as his mixed matched gemstones eyes, one of citrine, and the other of alexandrite gaze up with you revealing the depths of his devotion. The vulnerability of his cheek curled into your lap, a shoulder to bear your burdens such is that of his love.

If you will have him.

In this life.

And the next.

[are-you-still-writing-that]

Yandere!Kanae Kocho x Demon!Reader Scenario

Request: Hi, do you think you could maybe please write the yandere alphabet for Kanae Kocho from demon slayer with a female demon reader?.. I'm really interested in what lengths she would go to protect her beloved one. Like, would she try to suppress her s/o's demonic nature or would she even support it? Would she be ready to kill other demon slayer corps members to keep her loved one safe? I'm often daydreaming about this and would love to hear your opinion. ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

Hey there! This is not an Alphabet, but I wrote down a few headcanons. I just thought that this format would fit better, than the rather rigid form of the alphabet. Especially, because you asked some questions as well, and I really wanted to focus on these.

So let´s go!

I think the most important thing is making one thing clear: Were you a demon before she met you or did you get turned into one at a later point?

This can make or break the relationship between the two of you! So it´s important to know that before!

Let´s go down the route first, where you already are a demon before meeting her

To make things short: You die!

It doesn´t matter if you can hide your demonic nature from her and then the two of you get together or if she knows from the very first moment upon meeting you, because you told her or she figured it out herself. It doesn´t matter.

You will die!

If she knows from the beginning, she will see it as a mercy to you. No matter how kind you are, maybe especially because of your otherwise gentle nature. She hopes, that if you get reborn, you will have the chance for a better life. Without all this pain, these demon instincts brought you.

She ignores the spark, she felt in her chest. She ignores the grief, that suddenly presses down upon her without any discernable reason. It´s better this way. She knows that. There is no doubt in her heart, that this could have gone any other way.

But for a moment she wonders, who you would have been to each other in a different life. Your body turns to ash, and she stops wondering. She doesn´t have the time for this. No matter what this strange feeling in her chest is. She needs to move on.

Still, your face, your smile, your eyes, never leave her mind. She takes comfort in it.

If you manage to hide your status as a Demon from her, things will go a bit different...

She will rage. Her calm mask will crack, as she looks at you with tears in her eyes. „How could you?!“ You don´t think you have ever seen her this emotional. It´s scary.

She wastes no second in her vicious attempt to separate your head from your body. She is full of rage, full of grief. She will fight far more viciously, than you thought her capable.

Can you kill her? No? Well, then. That was it for you. She feels betrayed, and this betrayal is your death sentence.

She watches, as your body crumbled to dust at her feet.

And then: Regret!

She could have done things differently, no? Ah, it doesn´t matter now. She will go on to fight more viciously against every demon she meets. No matter their rang or power or if she is even suited for a fight like this. It seems almost like she wants to follow you...

Even though you betrayed her trust like this, she can´t help but still love you with all her heart.

So! That was that! Pretty depressive, no? But there still is another possibility.

You get turned into a demon, after you already had been together.

This time, it doesn´t matter, if she had known you for a few years, months, days or even hours. She reacts different than before.

Now there are two options again: She sees it happen or you tell her (or don´t, but she´ll know regardless)

Let´s start with the second one, mkay!

When you meet her again, you are unsure if you even should do that. No matter, what you had decided, if you had gathered the conviction to be brave enough to tell her, the words get stuck in your throat when she looks at you.

You can see how sad, she suddenly became, and you flinch back, when she storms towards you. She stops again. Her nose nearly touching yours, as she studies your face. From the corner of your eye, you see her arm rise, and close your eyes in return. Already tensing up in the anticipation of the following pain.

Nothing happens.

She simply touches your cheek. Gently caressing it. „We will figure something out. Don´t worry about it. You came to the right person for help!“ You open your eyes again, shocked at the burning admiration in her own. She pulls you close, and you can´t help but cry at this.

Cute, huh?

Kanae will try her best to help you. Shinobu, her master, was a genius when it came to poison and healing. Kanae will figure something out for you. Because of Tanjiro and Nezuko, she knows that you don´t need to eat any human meat. Yes, you will sleep a lot, but she will watch over you. For as long as you need her to. And even then she will continue.

When she brings you back to the butterfly mansion, she knows that she will face some resistance from Shinobu, but she is sure, that she will able to convince her teacher to let you stay.

A whimpered „Please...“ paired with desire. Her eyes truly alive for once. It´s enough for Shinobu to give in. You will survive, and she will defend you for as long as you live. She won´t kill anyone over you, but she knows where to get the support she needs to keep you alive.

And no matter the cost, she is willing to pay the price.

She will help you, because she couldn´t help you before. She will be there for you, because she couldn´t even be there for you, when you needed her the most.

And she knows it. You both do.

But there was something else I proposed, wasn´t there?

It was supposed to be a nice end to a wonderful evening. Her deadpan nature had brought you to laughter far more often than you could keep count. The food was delicious. And the company? Well, the company certainly found each other more than acceptable.

You walked close to each other. Your hands brushing, but never clasping. Conversation flowed between the two of you, though you talked, well rambled, while she answered every once in a while.

Though, with the late hour, there was a comfortable silence between you now. It was peaceful, and you leaned further into her.

Such a beautiful night it was. Almost like a dream you had.

Sadly, it would soon turn into a nightmare.

It all happened so fast.

You were thrown back.

You hear her screaming. So loud. She never was that loud. It worried you. You tried to lift you head to look for her. Your body was numb. There was so much pain.

Something – Water? – was dripped onto your lips. There was desperation in her voice now. You swallowed.

It burned. Your veins, your whole body, even your mind – It burned! Then everything went black. The last thing you heard was Kanae screaming your name.

When you woke the next time, you were laying on the floor.

Someone was patting your cheek. „C´mon! Please wake up!“

When you finally opened your eyes, everything seemed to be blurry at the beginning. Still, you could recognize the figure kneeling over you.

Her pink butterfly clip was broken. The wings seemed to be missing, and her hair was a mess. You don´t know, why you noticed this first. Her wings were gone! That was the only thing you could think of.

She was still prattling on. At this point, it seemed like she had said more, than the entire rest of the night combined.

You tried to sit up with a groan, but were quickly pushed down again. „No! Don´t! Stay down! Don´t know what is wrong yet. Sorry.“ Her hands pushed you back down, insistent, and your head rested on a soft fabric. When you looked her over, it was probably her white coat, that she had bundled up under your head.

You don´t why you noticed the dirt on her clothes, the tear in the fabrics before the rest. Maybe because she was always so put together in front of you? It seemed like she was about to fall apart, with nothing stopping the decline.

Her gentle hands caressed your face, even as you suddenly winced. Your mouth was hurting, your teeth ached! The light suddenly seemed too bright. Everything was just too much! There was a smell in the air. Delicious. Your teeth ache! Her face – You surge forward – was bloody. You bite.

She doesn´t even try to stop you, instead pulling you closer to her chest, as she gently pats your head. When you realize that you´re trying to bite through the shoulder of your date, you start to cry. She simply shushes you. Not letting you explain yourself, when you finally unclamp your teeth.

Your legs are shaky, when you try to stand, but you don´t have to waver for long, before Kanae is already by your side. She still smells delicious, and you hate yourself for even thinking it.

Awkwardly, the two of you shuffle along. Kanae nearly half-carrying you. You know she would try to carry your whole weight, but with her injuries, she can´t.

A slash across her face, one pupil more dilated than the other, her ankle twisted. A piece of flesh missing from her shoulder. She seems to have more bruised skin than not.

In comparison to her, you got away with a few scraps. Still a bit dizzy, and the lights are too bright. Other than that you feel fine. Weak. Fragile. But fine.

You almost feel bad about having her support you, but she glares at you – more emotion in her eyes than you used to – whenever you try to say something about it. You let her do it. It feels nice to have her so close to you. A comfort you desperately need.

She leads the way and you follow. You don´t know where you are going but you don´t mind. You had seen the sword at her side. Recognized her uniform. But you didn´t mind. She had always been so good to you. It wouldn´t hurt, if she did it. And she would. The blood in your mouth told you what happened, what you became. You wouldn´t mind if it was her, that brought an end to you.

So you followed her.

You follow the dirt trodden path, till you are stopped. A young man, plain but bright-eyed, sword at his side, and the same black uniform, that Kanae wears under her cloth, comes the other way, stopping in your path. He opens his mouth to say something, pointing at you, and in that moment you know, that he knows it too.

Then you are sitting on the ground.

You don´t quite understand what happened, but Kanae isn´t next to you any more. You search for her, looking around, as you try to get up from the ground. Your legs still feel weak.

But then you see her.

You vomit.

The headless body of the man drops unceremoniously to the ground.

Kanae is standing next to him. Sword drawn. Panting. She looks blank. But then she moves. Her eyebrow furrows, as if not quite understanding what happened yet. You hear her whisper a „Okay“ under her breath, as she slowly nods. Seemingly coming to a conclusion.

You still star in shock at the body of the young man, as Kanae whirls back around. Hurrying over to you, slightly limping – her ankle must hurt, you worry about it again – she stumbles, catching herself, she reaches out to you. She nearly pulls you completely from the ground by your arm, as she hurries to adjust your position, leaning on to her.

„Hurry! The sun.“ She doesn´t say more than that. She doesn´t need to. You slowly start to understand, what is going on.

When you pass the body, you start to salivate. It disgusts you, and you furiously wipe the spit away from your mouth. She looks at you, and before you can react, she slashes the torso open. Leaning down, she rummages around, pulling out the heart and some other organs, and simply pockets them.

„C´mon. We can´t waste any more time“ and with that she is back to focusing on dragging you along, to where ever she considers safe. You shuffle away. Her pockets dripping with blood and you yearning for it.

What strange companions love and guilt made you.